


One Day Older

by tak_cajaz



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Avengers Compound, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Clint Barton and His Strays, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Hand Wavy Use of Wanda's Powers, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Nightmares, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, Shooting Range, Wanda Maximoff Helps Bucky Barnes Recover, Wanda and Pietro are 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tak_cajaz/pseuds/tak_cajaz
Summary: "Who are you," he hissed, "and why are you here?""Listen, Bucky," the man started. Bucky's eyes widened in panic, pressing the knife closer to his neck."How do you know that? Who do you work for?"Before there was an answer, the lights flicked on, and Tony, Steve, and Natasha were standing on the other side of the room, wary and ready to fight. When they noticed the man, however, they relaxed. "Buck, you can let him go," Steve said softly. Warily, Bucky did and the man leaned forward, clutching his throat. "This is Clint Barton, Hawkeye."-:-It had been ten and a half months since the fight in DC in April. Nine months since Bucky's memories fully resurfaced and he let Steve catch up to him. Eight months since he started living in the Avengers compound in upstate New York.By now, he was used to Natasha's sneaking, Steve's overbearing behaviors, and Steve and Tony's awful attempts at hiding that they were soulmates.What he wasn't used to was a tall archer, and the set of twins he practically adopted.-:-Soulmate AU: You stop aging at 25 until you meet your soulmate. The first time you touch skin to skin, you feel a spark.For Winterhawk Big Bang 2020
Relationships: Clint Barton & Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 248
Collections: Winterhawk Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time participating in a big bang, and I have two lovely pieces of art to go along with it!  
> The first, corresponding to this chapter is by the talented Harishe, and you can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044740)  
> :)  
> My tumblr is tak-cajaz, previously actually-barton :)  
> I'm still getting back into writing very slowly, and this fic has been on my mind for almost a year now

**I.**

Bucky watched carefully as Natalia – Natasha, whatever – spoke quietly over the phone. Someone she was close with, it seemed.

It had been ten and a half months since the fight in DC in April. Nine months since Bucky's memories fully resurfaced and he had let Steve catch up to him. Eight months and three and a half weeks since Tony Stark had found out Bucky had killed his parents while under Hydra's control. Eight months and two weeks since Tony finally came out of his lab, and forgave Bucky. Eight months and two weeks since he started living in the Avengers compound in upstate New York. 

Bucky was finally, _finally_ , fully settled into his new life. Living with Steve was nothing new to him, but all the space they had, all the people with them, _that_ was something else. There was Stark, of course, so reminiscent of his father, and yet so spiteful of him. He wasn't always there, but more often than not, he was. Then there was Natalia, or Natasha as she seemed to go by now. He remembered her, if only faintly; he trained her in Siberia. Sam came and went, apparently having moved to New York City after the battle in DC. Stark had some friends come and go, a shorter black man named James as well. Everyone seemed to call him Rhodey, and he was an officer with the Air Force. The other was Virginia – who went by Pepper for one reason or another – who ran Stark's company. It wasn't too often that she was around.

Bucky didn't mind all the people, though; it reminded him of growing up with his sisters.

Though, that had been years ago.

Bucky had wondered, many times, if they were still alive. Becca was twenty-two, only four years younger than him when he left for the war in 1943. The twins, Beth and Bella, were fourteen. Hopefully, he would think quietly, they had found their soulmates and grew old with them. He didn't want them to have a similar fate to his.

Sure, the odds of them almost dying, being tortured, and then turned to brainwashed assassins were probably slim, so at least they wouldn't have dealt with that. But Bucky didn't look a day over twenty-five. Sure, his hair grew long, his beard grew in, but past that, he looked the same in the face as he had on his twenty-fifth birthday in 1942.

He knew his soulmate had likely been displaced by the war, and probably gave up, leaving him to be an old, grumpy 25-year-old for the rest of his life, whenever that would end.

Most of the people around him had aged. Natasha and Sam looked older than they had when he first met them, just barely though. Even Steve looked older, if only by a few years. He still hadn't asked Steve who it was. Steve didn't mention it either. Bucky kind of had a pretty good idea though.

Presently, Bucky watched Natasha finish her phone call with a quiet "I love you, be safe."

He surprised himself when he asked, voice quiet, "Was that your soulmate?"

Natasha looked at him with calculating eyes for a moment before she responded. "No, my best friend."

Bucky nodded, looking back down to the book on his lap. He didn't read it, staring at the words intensely until they blurred.

"Be careful there, Barnes. Your robot laser eyes might burn holes into that poor book."

The brunet looked up, locking eyes with Stark; the shorter man was making coffee. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not sure I get it."

Stark sighed sadly. "I can't believe I haven't shown you Terminator yet."

"Ignore him," Natasha said, sitting on the chair to the right of Bucky's couch. "Basically, you have a robotic arm, and science fiction often gives robots the ability to shoot lasers from their eyes."

Bucky nodded slowly.

Steve walked into the area, smiling at Stark warmly. He moved close to the short brunet but seemingly stopped abruptly. He turned his head to see Bucky and moved away from the other man. Stark's face fell, ever so slightly; Bucky noticed, remaining quiet. Steve cleared his throat, before speaking "How's the research going, Tony?"

He was referring to Tony's latest project for Bucky, to rid him of those stupid triggers. Since Bucky moved in, that had been one of Stark's obsessions, claiming he didn't want to wake up one night and have the Winter Soldier staring at him. As true as that may be, Steve had told him later, Stark genuinely wanted to right things, and he was always up for a challenge. Bucky decided to not be offended at the idea of being a challenge.

Stark shrugged. "I haven't made any breakthroughs yet, at least, not according to Jarvis."

Jarvis was Stark's AI, Steve had told him, a concept that Bucky didn't really get. It was a disembodied voice that controlled the building and Tony's suits and is also similar to a butler? Past that, Bucky didn't know what to make of it.

"Do not worry, Sergeant Barnes. I trust that Mr. Stark will be able to find a solution," the voice added.

Bucky looked warily at the ceiling. "Thanks..." he mumbled, looking back at his book.

-:-

Bucky blinked open his eyes, a feeling of uneasiness settling in his chest. It was late, or was it early? A glance at the clock told him it was 3:42 am; something felt off. He got up, retied the drawstring on his sweatpants, and shoved his sweatshirt sleeves down from where they had rolled up his forearms. As he stood in front of the door, he glanced around thoughtfully, before taking a knife with him.

The halls were dark and quiet, bouncing around any sound. Footsteps were coming from the common room, but they weren't Tony's heavy footfalls or Natasha's light steps. They were uneven, clumsy, and foreign. Squinting, Bucky could just barely make out the shape of a man near the door. Tall, lanky, wide-shouldered.

Alien, intruder, dangerous, his mind supplied.

In a swift movement, Bucky was behind the guy, metal arm gripping roughly across his chest and the knife pressed to his throat. The man didn't struggle, didn't even move his hand to his neck, but rather stayed just still enough that his only movement was his breathing.

"Who are you," he hissed, "and why are you in my home?"

"Listen, Bucky," the man started. Bucky's eyes widened in panic, his heart racing, before tightening his grip.

"How do you know that? Who do you work for?"

From the corner of his eye, Bucky could see glowing red eyes, and some sort of red fog nearing him. He wanted to move, but something told him to stay, leaving his body frozen. The man in his arms tensed, jerking forward ever so slightly. Bucky could feel the pressure against his knife at the action. The man winced, before shouting out; Bucky couldn’t make out through his hazy mind.

The fog dissipated and Bucky's body slumped slightly, before restraining the man again. "What did you do to me?" he hissed.

Before there was an answer, the lights flicked on, and Tony, Steve, and Natasha were standing on the other side of the room, looking nervous and ready to fight. When they noticed the man, however, they all relaxed. "Buck, you can let him go," Steve said softly. Warily, Bucky did just that, and the man leaned forward, clutching his throat. "Bucky, this is Clint Barton, Hawkeye."

The name clicked in Bucky's head. Natasha and Stark had mentioned Clint a few times, said he was on a mission. Bucky's eyes scanned the man. His brows drew together in confusion, taking in his joggers and t-shirt, covered by a dark purple flannel. A heavy sigh behind Bucky made him turn back to where the other three adults still stood.

Natasha crossed her arms. "My best friend, and a total dumbass," she added as she raised an eyebrow. She stared directly at the blonde.

He turned to face Bucky, and despite the blood leaking from beneath his hand, he smiled at Bucky with shining blue eyes. The brunet was taken aback. The man – Clint – began to speak. "I'd offer my hand but y'know, blood." He shrugged.

"I'm so-"

"Don't," Clint interrupted, "Don't, okay? I was sneaking around in the middle of the night and you probably didn't know I was coming."

Bucky nodded, voice caught in his throat.

Before anyone could say anything, Clint turned, and it was then Bucky noticed the two other people in the room. One was a short, too-skinny girl, no older than 18, with big green eyes and auburn hair. A few feet away was a tall boy, his features the same as hers, other than his blue eyes and bleached hair. He was awkwardly lanky, though he had some muscle to him. The girl was holding the edge of Clint's long sleeve, staring up at him, while the boy was staring at Bucky intensely, but yet not a glare.

The girl brought her hand near Clint's neck, and her eyes turned red, that same red fog coming from her hand. In a matter of moments, the small cut closed up, leaving behind just some blood on his skin. Bucky watched with wide eyes as Natasha walked over with a washcloth, and Clint merely tilted his head up. She cleaned away the remaining blood off his neck and hand, before cupping his cheek. The two stared at one another for a long moment, before Clint nodded slowly. Natasha gave him a small smile, patted his cheek, and went to throw away the washcloth.

"You gonna introduce us to your new friends, Barton?" Stark spoke, as Natasha returned.

Clint took a step back, pulling the two towards him around their shoulders. They blinked up at him, smiling faintly after a moment. He grinned back. "Not so new anymore. This is Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins, enhanced, 17 years old." The blonde looked up. "Found them on my mission about a month ago, locked up in the Hydra base I liquidated in Sokovia."

Sokovia sounded familiar, Bucky thought to himself.

"A month ago?" Steve asked, brows furrowing together. "I thought you were still on your mission?"

"Well," Clint began, a hesitant, but nonetheless bright smile on his lips, "I finished early, but I found the enhanced that were in the mission intel, these guys." Clint squeezed them, eyes falling to each twin for a moment. "They weren't as old as we thought, not as wiped and trained. They were still reachable, still willing to change. So, I, uh, I brought them back to the farm, and spent a month there so they could recuperate and relearn."

Stark let a quiet moment pass before he decided to open his mouth again. "So you decided to adopt two science experiments?"

Wanda winced, pressing closer to Clint's side. Bucky could see Steve make an unsavory face.

"We were told we'd be helping our country," Pietro spoke, voice accented and clear. "Instead, they imprisoned us for the last two years, tortured us to test our abilities."

Clint smiled down at him, rubbing his shoulder. "And they need somewhere to stay. There's probably still Hydra in their country, it's not a big place at all." He looked down at Wanda, squeezing her shoulder, before making eye contact with Tony. "Might I add, both you and Steve are also science experiments?"

Steve gave Stark a shrug with a face that just said _'He's got you there._ '

"We would've stayed at the farm, but I knew I needed to be back here. Plus they need to interact with someone other than me."

Tony gave them both a scrutinizing look.

Natasha stepped in, eyeing the three. "I trust them." She then looked up at Stark. "Clint's got an eye for this kind of thing. He's the one who brought me in, instead of killing me." Clint smiled fondly at her.

Stark nodded. "Alright, whatever you say, Nat. You can find them rooms yourself, Katniss, you're a big boy. I'm going back to sleep."

As the brunet walked away, Steve gave him a confused look. "You weren't even sleeping? You were in your lab." Stark waved a dismissive hand behind him. Steve sighed, shaking his head. "I'm Steve, by the way, Steve Rogers." He smiled at the twins. "This is my best friend, Bucky Barnes."

Bucky looked at them, nodding quietly in greeting.

"Are you going to attack our old man again?" Pietro asked, a hint of a joke in his voice.

Clint thumped the boy's head, smirking playfully at the " _ouch!_ ".

"Be nice, kid. He's been through it," Clint glanced at him with a soft gaze, and Bucky's chest felt warm and tight.

Bucky swallowed and looked away, over to Steve. The blonde nodded back towards their bedrooms, and then said "Nice meeting you two," Steve nodded with an easy smile. "Sleep well, and welcome back, Clint." Bucky and Steve walked back to their rooms, and the blonde patted his shoulder when they reached the brunet's door. "Sleep well, Buck."

"Thanks, Steve," he murmured, before slipping into his room again.

-:-

Clint's room, Bucky found out, was just across from his. When he got up the next morning, the girl – Wanda – was knocking on the door, listening for a couple of moments, before simply letting herself in. She looked back, met Bucky's eyes, and then let the door close behind her.

It wasn't for a few more hours until Bucky saw Clint. The man stumbled into the living room sometime around two in the afternoon, looking borderline dead. Bucky watched the blonde pad over to Natasha, who simply handed him a steaming mug of coffee from her spot at the breakfast bar. He slumped next to her, leaning into her side and sipping at the mug. When he finished his mug a few minutes later, he stood, kissed Natasha's hair, and started to fix himself another cup. As it brewed, he looked up, eyes locking on Bucky's. He gave a small smile and a wave, and Bucky found himself nodding back.

The twins entered the room a few minutes later, Wanda holding Pietro's sleeve and looking around the room. Her eyes landed on Bucky curiously for a moment, before looking back to Clint. The blonde smiled tiredly at the two. "Morning."

"It's two in the afternoon, Clint," Natasha corrected without looking up from her laptop.

"Afternoon," he shrugged. "Are you two hungry? I'm not much of a cook, but I'm sure I can make you something easy." Pietro looked at Wanda, before nodding. Clint smiled softly, gesturing to the seats at the breakfast bar. "Take a seat then. Tasha's not gonna bite."

"Not you two, at least," the redhead added bluntly but gave them a small smile and a glance. Pietro let out a small laugh as the two settled onto the stools.

Bucky watched as the tall blonde pulled out ingredients and a couple of pots. He hummed quietly, smiling back at the twins.

Bucky had read the file on the blonde, last night specifically. Natasha had knocked on his door after everyone had gone back to bed, silently handed him papers, and disappeared once again. The file read that he was forty-five, which was a bit old to have yet to meet your soulmate, but who was Bucky to judge? He was fluent in six languages besides English, and also legally deaf. At the age of nine, Clint's parents had passed away in a car accident, and he and his brother joined the circus. It wasn't clear exactly how he had gone from that to being a contract killer, but after a run-in with an agent named Phil Coulson, he had been hired to join SHIELD. He was an excellent marksman with both a bow and a rifle, and his training was something even Bucky could admire. It even stated that he was among the most prized agents and assassins SHIELD had.

Bucky looked up to see Clint smiling fondly at the twins as they laughed quietly at something he said. Bucky had never met an assassin so soft, so gentle around others; he felt his chest clench at the warm look on the blonde's face. What an odd feeling, Bucky thought to himself, as Clint pulled out bowls and began to scoop something into them.

"It's not much, but my mom used to make me this as a kid when I was upset." He handed a bowl over to the twins, and then one to Natasha. They all nodded graciously at him, and then suddenly bright blue eyes were on him. "Would you like some, Bucky?"

The brunet blinked in surprise, staring for a moment before nodding and standing up from his spot on the couch. The blonde placed a bowl and fork at the spot next to Natasha, and Bucky took a seat. It was macaroni and cheese, so simple, but it smelled good. Bucky murmured a quiet "Thank you," before taking a bite.

"It's good, zaychik," Natasha said softly to Clint. He smiled, and the twins looked between them.

"Are you… Are you two soulmates?" Wanda spoke for the first time, voice small, light, and accented.

Clint smiled at her. "No, we're just scarily codependent. Nat's found her soulmate." Bucky's chest tightened a bit at the unspoken I haven't. "Speaking of, when do I get to see him again, Tasha?" he asked, crossing his arms with a playful glare.

Natasha shrugged. "He'll be back soon; he lives in the city now, you know that, idiot."

Clint smiled. "I know. From what Cap told me, he’s found a good job there."

Bucky let his thoughts wander for a moment. Steve knew her soulmate? How would– oh.

"Is Sam your soulmate?" Bucky asked with a raspy voice. He felt the four pairs of eyes on him, but when he looked up, he only met Natasha's eyes.

"Yes, and I hope you don't pull the steering wheel out of his new car," she stated and turned to him. There was a playful hint to her voice, the corners of her lips tilting up.

"I… I don’t remember doing that the first time, but I'll keep it in mind."

Gently, slowly, she brought her hand to his left shoulder, giving him time to move away if he didn't want to be touched. He didn't move. "Don't worry about it, James. He's gonna tease the shit out of you about it if he finds out I reminded you, I guarantee, but he's all talk." Bucky nodded, letting himself relax ever so slightly against her hand.

-:-

Sam came in the next morning, and Bucky couldn't help but feel stupid when he saw how he and Natasha interacted. Of course, they were soulmates, what kind of assassin was Bucky if he couldn't even notice that? He watched from the window as Sam exited his car, and took Natasha into his arms. She hugged back, lips moving upwards towards his ear, and then he leaned down and kissed her. Bucky glanced away, feeling intrusive, and that’s when he noticed Clint, about five feet away and looking out as well.

"They're good for each other." He smiled to himself, eyes flickering to his feet for a moment, before locking back on the two outside. "For a long time, I wondered if maybe we were because we just click," he said, not looking at Bucky. He just stared at them for another minute, before meeting Bucky's eyes. The brunet's breath caught at the bright blue. "But there was never that spark the first time our hands touched, and my love for her has never been more than platonic." He glanced at the pair one more time. "Sam is really wonderful, I know he'd do anything for her, and she deserves the best."

Bucky nodded, staying quiet for a minute. "I'm sorry I tried to kill her."

Clint laughed, a soft smile on his face. "That wasn't you Buck, alright?" Bucky liked how his name sounded, coming from Clint's lips. He nodded. "Besides, I did, too, once or twice." He gave a nonchalant shrug, letting it drop. "How about you? Ever find your guy or gal?"

The brunet shook his head. "I think they were displaced in the war or something, I've given up on meeting them."

Clint shook his head, and tentatively rested his hand on Bucky's covered bicep. His touch was hot, Bucky could feel with the thermosensors, but pleasantly so. "You'll find them, Buck."

"You will, too," he found himself saying without forethought.

Clint blinked at him in surprise, hand still on the brunet's metal arm. But before he could apologize, Clint smiled. "I should've known you'd read my file, Barnes." He squeezed his arm, before dropping his hand. "I know my guy's out there." Bucky was too busy staring

"You think it's a fella?"

The blonde shrugged, looking out the window. "I like both, but I gotta feeling. Call it a hunch."

Bucky let the thought float in the air, nodding quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

Ice. Everything was ice and cold and _hurt_. It hurt terribly. The piercing cold dug into the Soldier and his shoulder ached. There was a body underneath him, Captain America, his mission. He was choking him with his metal hand, squeezing far tighter than he strictly needed to. The other man was pleading, _pleading_ "Bucky, please, I know you're in there, _Bucky_." But he let him, Captain America didn't try to stop him at all. His brain snapped, and suddenly he wasn't the Soldier, he was _Bucky_ , and it wasn't Captain America, it was _Steve_ , little Steve Grant Rogers with newspaper stuffed shoes and a severe lack of self-preservation. It was his best friend, and he was screaming at himself, _screaming_ to stop because this was Steve, this was his _best friend_ , how could he hurt him? But he couldn’t stop, couldn't loosen his hand, because it’s _not his hand_ , and suddenly Steve's body went limp beneath him. He could finally, _finally_ loosen his hand but it was too late. He had killed him, _he killed his best friend_ , and then he was being dragged away, and he struggled, fought to go back to Steve and beg him to open his eyes, but they dragged him away, back into the cold, cold tube, and he screamed, screamed as the tube refroze, screamed until his throat hurt, and–

He woke up, sweating and strangled sobs bubbling his throat. He looked around wildly until his eyes settled on a picture on his nightstand. With shaky hands, he grabbed it and tilted it to see in the moonlight. He and Steve, a picture Natasha took a month or two ago, of them sitting on the couch and asleep together during the movie they were watching.

Steve was safe, and he wasn't the Soldier. He was Bucky, and he was in his room, nowhere near tubes or chairs.

His clock proclaimed that it was 2:49 in the morning, and Bucky shivered. The room wasn't cold, but he was; he stood and pulled out a sweatshirt from his drawer. Without aim, he left his room and wandered. Through the soundproof doors, he couldn't hear snoring from the rooms hall as he passed, bare feet quiet against the cool floor; still, he knew Steve was undoubtedly snoring. The thought alone brought a sense of calm familiarity. He could see a dim light from down the stairs, and he followed it.

There in the kitchen, with a mug in his hand and closed eyes, was one Clint Barton. He was dressed similarly to Bucky, with dark sweatpants and a deep purple hoodie. He brought the mug up, and Bucky watched how his lips parted ever so slightly before the mug met them, and heard the quiet sigh. His eyes fluttered open, jumping slightly at the sight of Bucky.

Bucky winced, "Sorry," he mumbled.

Clint gave him an easy smile. "You're alright, Buck. Want a cup?"

The brunet nodded gratefully. He pulled down his red mug, watching Clint leaning over to fill it. Bucky held his breath as he did so, eyes focused on the stubble on Clint's jaw and the way the blonde towered over him.

Clint leaned back, placing the coffee pot in its spot, and bringing the mug up to his lips again. 

"I've never seen this coffee maker before," Bucky spoke softly, inspecting the drip coffee machine on the counter. It looked far older and far cheaper than Tony's fancy espresso machine, to say the least.

The blonde grinned over his mug. "Tony puts it away when I'm not here, pretends he hates it even though I've seen him use it some nights." Bucky snorts a quiet laugh. "Tony's espresso machine is nice and all, but sometimes I want something comforting like this. Plus, it's quiet at night.

Bucky nodded, sipping at his own mug. Clint was right, the espresso machine was nice, but fancy coffee was still difficult to get used to.

Clint's eyes slowly raked over him over his mug. "Nightmare?" he asked, after taking a sip.

Bucky nodded before his eyes widened. "Did I wake you up? I'm so-"

"Hey," Clint interrupted, and Bucky immediately stopped. "You didn't wake me up, okay? The walls are soundproof. The only person who could hear what happens in those rooms is Wanda, and she has to be trying to hear it. Besides," he shrugged, "I can't really hear right now, anyhow."

The blonde tapped his ears, which Bucky realized were devoid of his purple hearing aids. He looked at Clint in shock. "How do you know what I'm saying?"

"Lip reading. Learned how to do it as a kid when I couldn't afford the aids. So long as you look at me and speak normal, I can figure it out." Bucky nodded, sipping his coffee. The two stood in silence for a few minutes, Bucky clutching the mug to feel its heat. "Cold?"

"Yeah," Bucky breathed with a slight nod.

"Come with me," he spoke, smiling softly at him, and Bucky swore his heart stopped for a moment. The blonde started towards the elevator, Bucky following a few feet behind. They rode the elevator down a few floors until it came to a gentle stop. Clint waved him to follow again. They walked in and Bucky took a moment to look around. It was a shooting range with tech spanning the whole length of the walls, floor, and ceiling. Off to each side was a wall of different weapons, all hung carefully. The room was cold, and both men shivered. Clint pressed both hands to his mug before speaking. "Jarvis, bring the room temp to 75 degrees."

The room felt warmer within minutes and Clint sighed happily, the tension in his shoulders beginning to melt away. He walked over to the wall, grabbing a bow and some arrows. When he realized Bucky was still planted by the door, he gestured his head towards the rifles on the wall.

Bucky looked at him in shock. "You trust me with a gun?"

Clint shrugged. "You were a sniper before everything. I know shooting makes me feel better, and I imagine you're the same."

Bucky blinked, then nodded. He was. Back in the war, before he "died" and was tortured and turned into the Soldier, shooting was therapeutic. Sure, the crouching part of it could be uncomfortable, but the only time he felt relaxed after being drafted was with his rifle in his hands.

So he reached for a rifle, shakily; he hadn't held one since moving in. He told himself it was because he had no need to, that he was safe here. In reality, he was terrified. The odds the Soldier would come back from just shooting were slim, but what if that was all it took? Steve was his last mission, what if some part of his brain still wanted to finish it?

And yet, he took it in his hands, because even if he didn't trust himself, Clint did. He breathed a sigh of relief and the familiar feeling in his hands. He checked the gun, loaded it, and turned to Clint, who was watching. When their met eyes, the blonde blushed and turned. "C'mon, let's shoot some shit. Jarvis," he looked at the ceiling, as Bucky assumed a spot in the stall to the right of Clint's, "start it."

Clint spared Bucky a quick smile through the bulletproof glass between them before targets began to appear. Bucky began shooting, his tenseness fading as the holographic targets shattered. The targets didn't stop, and the two kept going and going, Bucky relaxing with each shot. The cold was gone, replaced by a comfortable warmth, one that seemed present whenever he was near Clint.

After a while, the targets finally stopped, and the two lowered their weapons. Bucky smiled at Clint, and the blonde' cheeks flushed before he turned and began to take off his hoodie. Bucky watched the hoodie slide off to reveal a tight white tank top. It did little to hide the muscles in Clint's back, and Bucky couldn't help but stare. Clint's muscles could almost rival Steve's, he thought, staring at the wide shoulders and defined arms.

Clint turned back around, and Bucky's face turned warm as he looked away. He heard footsteps, followed by the other man saying "Jarvis, traditional targets, please." The brunet watched as a few standard archery targets appeared from the floor beneath. Clint took his stance, back to Bucky, and nocked an arrow, and set it loose. Bucky watched as it sailed directly into the center of the target. He looked back up at Clint, who noticed him staring and sent a wink over his shoulder, before repeating the same process.

Watching Clint shoot was entrancing. His face was set, a determined, yet relaxed look to his features. He was all fluid movements, his back muscles tensing as he pulled back and shot, splitting his first arrow in half. Bucky breathed a quiet "Wow," as Clint looked at him, smiling slightly.

"I never miss," he said simply. He didn't sound cocky, but rather like it was just a fact.

He shot a few more times, before retrieving the arrows, and putting his things away. Bucky did the same with the rifle, running his hand over it gently after hanging it. Clint led him back to the elevator, hoodie slung over his shoulder, and stood next to him. "Better?" he asked quietly, looking at Bucky.

Bucky met his eyes, feeling calmer at the sight of bright blue. He let himself smile, if only slightly, at the blonde. "Yeah, thank you."

Clint smiled back as the doors slid open. "Heading back to sleep?" he asked, placing his mug down and pouring another cup.

Bucky slid his over, leaning against the counter. "No," he mumbled with a shake of his head, watching Clint carefully pour coffee, and then slide the mug back to him. "Thanks… But I have trouble getting back to sleep after nightmares. I usually just stay up and read."

The blonde nodded, from behind his mug. "I do, too, usually shoot until I can't and watch a movie or something to distract myself." He set his eyes on Bucky, and the brunet's face heats up under the warm gaze. "Wanna watch a movie or something?"

Bucky nodded, and it wasn't until they were sitting a few feet away from each other on the couch that he realized. "Wait, you had a nightmare tonight?" he asked as Clint turned to him.

Clint blinked at him before a small, shy smile played on his lips. He reached into his pants pocket and produced his purple hearing aids, before sliding them in. He then met Bucky's eyes again, that same smile tugging at Bucky's heart. "What was that?"

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to shake the feeling from his chest. "I, ah… I asked if you had a nightmare tonight?" The blonde nodded. "I'm sorry, I… I didn't even think to ask."

Clint smiled again, shaking his head. "It's alright, Buck. It was… It's a reoccurring thing with me. Not all the time, not quite as bad as they used to be, but… They're all still up there." Bucky nodded, looking down. Clint nudged him with his socked foot. "You're not the only fucked up one here."

Bucky shrugged, eyes still glued to his lap. "Not as much as me," he almost whispered.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Bucky met Clint's eyes again, and his look said that there was more to the story than Clint was telling him. But his file hadn't mentioned anything overly traumatic; maybe Natasha had omitted parts? Or was SHIELD's file missing something?

He'd have to ask Natasha.

But for now, he just took in Clint's soft eyes and let the man put on a movie.

-:-

Natasha was alone in the kitchen a few days later. She gave Bucky a nod over her laptop as he leaned against the counter across from her spot at the breakfast bar. He had a book in his hands, but he left it closed in favor of studying Natasha for a few minutes.

She finally met his eyes, hers green and curious. "What do you have to ask me, James?"

"There's information missing from Clint's file."

Natasha gave him a curious glance. "What makes you think something's missing?"

"He had a nightmare the other night… Said something about how he was just as fucked as me in the head. Nothing in his file seems particularly traumatic, other than his parents passing away."

The redhead smiled ever so slightly at him. "You're right. But I'm afraid you'll have to ask him yourself, not my stories to tell."

Bucky understood, murmuring a quiet thank you. He glanced at the clock - 12:43 pm - before asking "Would you like lunch?"

"Depends if you're a better cook than Steve."

The brunet snorted at that. "How do you think we survived in our apartment? Besides, I'm just gonna make something simple. Grilled cheese sound okay?"

With a nod from Natasha, he turned to start pulling out ingredients. He smiled when she added, "I'm pretty sure Steve could mess even that up."

Bucky began to assemble the sandwiches when he heard voices getting closer. He glanced over when Steve and Sam came up the stairs. The two men grinned at him and Natasha, and Sam placed a small kiss on her hair before taking the seat next to her. Steve leaned against the counter with an easy look on his face. "Whatcha making, Buck?"

"Grilled cheese, you two want some?"

"Sure, do you want me to make some soup to go with it?"

"No," came Sam, Natasha, and Bucky's voices sounded at the same time. Steve recoiled, looking between the three.

"Steve, you barely can use a microwave correctly," Natasha said without even sparing a glance at him.

Steve scoffed, "Of course, I can." He looked behind Sam to see Stark walking in. "Tony, tell them I'm capable of cooking."

Without a moment of hesitation, Stark said "I love you Steve, and that's why I know you're hardly capable of making coffee in a machine that does it for you."

Steve looked down in defeat.

"Do you want some soup to go with grilled cheese, Steve? I'll make it." The blonde nodded, reaching to pull out a few boxes of the organic and supposedly healthy tomato soup Stark stocks up on, and set it next to Bucky on the counter. He and Stark then took the two seats to Sam's right. Bucky grabbed a large pot and proceeded to pour the soup in and turn on the heat. With an occasional stir, the brunet warmed up a skillet and began to make the sandwiches.

The elevator dinged quietly, the doors scraping open. "Oh, what's for lunch?"

Bucky glanced over, meeting eyes with Clint. On each of his sides were the twins; Bucky sometimes forgot they were even here. The only time he saw them was with Clint, glued to his sides and speaking quietly to him. They spoke when spoken to but generally kept to themselves.

"Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Hungry?"

The blonde looked at the twins, who both nodded up at him. "Yeah, you have extras?"

"Of course. Take a seat."

After a sort of silent debate, the twins took the two remaining seats and Clint leaned against the counter near them. Bucky dished out sandwiches and cups of soup, before leaning against the counter with his own. The room was quiet, except for everyone's soft chewing. Pietro finished quickly, and looked around almost sheepishly; before Bucky could move, Clint slid the remaining half of his sandwich onto the teen's plate, bumping his shoulder. Pietro gave him a wide-eyed look, but the blonde waved him off and began to make another few sandwiches.

"I can make it, Clint," Bucky murmured.

Clint shrugged, eyes focused on the food in front of him. "I'm not a lost cause like Steve."

"Hey!"

Bucky snickered, and Clint smiled at him, eyes warm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's worth noting that my version of Clint in this story is a pretty solid mix of comic/Fraction Hawkeye with a tiny bit of MCU Hawkeye. Mostly comic though, the only things I can think of right now from MCU Clint is the farmhouse in Iowa and his affinity for picking up strays.  
> (MCU Clint doesn't exist in my heart)


	3. Chapter 3

**III.**

A few nights later, Bucky was wandering after another nightmare. He couldn't quite remember this one, not too well, but he knew he was freezing afterward. The kitchen lights were on, as was the coffee machine, but Clint was nowhere near. Bucky let his feet guide him to the elevator, and he found himself on the floor with the range.

Once again, the blonde was nowhere to be found, but across from the range, there was a glass balcony, overlooking the training floor, and Bucky ambled over there. He was surprised to see Clint sparring with Pietro on the mat below, both wearing joggers and tank tops.

The kid was good; sloppy, but good for someone who wasn't trained, he critiqued internally. Clint was holding back on him, Bucky knew that, but Pietro was holding up nonetheless. Clint threw a punch, and the kid, he was a flash of blue, suddenly behind Clint. What the hell? The blonde laughed when the kid got him in a headlock and said "You didn't see that coming, old man?"

How had the kid just…

And Bucky remembered. They were enhanced, by Hydra's hand, nonetheless.

This kid just happened to be incredibly fast; it was no wonder he ate as much as Bucky and Steve. He had seen Wanda's abilities, but what were they exactly, Bucky wondered, leaning to rest his forearms on the railing and listening to the two taunt each other with loud laughs.

Bucky could feel someone behind him, although they were silent. He turned his head, and speak of the devil, there she was, Wanda. She was looking at him, a curious look in her eyes, wearing a purple hoodie she was swimming in, and a pair of sweatpants. He kept her gaze for a moment until she looked at the two men below. She moved forward, standing a few feet away from Bucky at the railing. "They are both releasing stress," she stated simply in her soft, accented voice, watching them. "They both hide that they are hurting with humor, but they had nightmares." She looked back to Bucky with gentle green eyes. "You did, too, Sergeant Barnes."

"Bucky," he murmured; she nodded. He studied her for a minute, her tired eyes and too young face and tiny body drowning in her clothes. Her cheeks still seemed a little gaunt, yet still far better than almost three weeks before when they arrived. "What did they do to you two?"

She gave him a sad smile, something beautiful and tragic at once. "I am sure you know."

Bucky winced because he did. He knew what they did to people, if only vaguely. Wanda and Pietro, they were too young for that. "I'm sorry."

Wanda shook her head. "We thought that it would give us something after our parents died."

"Did I…"

"No, it was not you, a bombshell was dropped on our apartment building. The fact that we survived had been a miracle." She glanced at her brother for a moment before she met Bucky's eyes again. "It is a miracle their experiments did not kill us either." Bucky could sympathize and she clearly knew that. "But in the end, it worked out, did it not?" She then looked at where Clint had Pietro in a headlock, ruffling his hair with a grin as the teen tried to escape his grasp. "It led us to somewhere better."

Bucky followed her fond gaze, eyes landing on Clint forcing Pietro to the mat, where the teen let out a breathy laugh and tapped the ground. Clint got up and offered his hand. The kid took it, pulling Clint into a quick hug after he stood. Over the blonde's shoulder, Pietro's eyes met Wanda's suddenly, and a smile formed on his lips. Clint's eyes followed when he pulled back, an easy look on his face as he met Bucky's gaze. The girl looked back to Bucky, a gentle smile on her lips. "Would you like some hot chocolate?"

Twenty minutes later, Bucky found himself in the kitchen with the other three, sipping at mugs of hot chocolate that Wanda had prepared. Wanda was sat next to him, hands hardly visible beneath the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Pietro was on her other side, and Clint leaned against the other side of the counter, elbows resting on the granite. The blonde had put his purple sweatshirt back on, one similar to the one Wanda was wearing. Clint looked at her with a scrutinizing eye for a moment.

"That's where that sweatshirt went."

Wanda laughed quietly, shaking her head. "What are you going to do about it, old man?"

Clint pressed his hand to his heart dramatically. "You wound me, Wanda. Stop spending so much time with… that one," he said, looking at Pietro with feigned disgust in his voice.

Bucky found himself laughing quietly into his mug. Clint looked at him with a bright grin and brighter eyes, and Bucky's face felt warm. He told himself it was the hot drink in his hands, but Wanda had clearly noticed, and she smiled knowingly at him. The brunet merely looked back, before asking "Wanda… What exactly are your abilities?" Her smile slid off her face. "You don't have to tell me, I understand if-"

"There's a lot to it, but, ah… Clint," she looked at the blonde with a confused look over her features. "What are the words?"

"Telekinesis, telepathy, energy manipulation, among other things," Clint helped, waving his hand aimlessly.

Bucky froze, his heart stuttering and mouth going dry. "She… She can get in my head?"

Clint's smile dropped almost instantly, his shoulders squaring as he stood up straighter. "Yes but-"

"You would know if I was," the girl interrupted quietly; Bucky's head whipped to look at her. Pietro flinched ever so slightly behind her at the sudden, intense gaze. "I am not…" she started, brows pulling together. "It is not my place to go in anyone's head, not if I do not have to."  Bucky stared at her, long and hard. She stared back with sure eyes, not flinching at the look in his eyes. His stomach stopped churning, but his heart still thumped a little harder. His eyes flickered to Clint, who watched with a new look on his face, almost… understanding.  Bucky nodded, still tense, but turned and brought his mug up to his lips. Wanda's eyes stayed glued to him for another minute before she looked at her hand on the counter.  "If you prefer, I can stay away from you."

His head whipped around again. "Wanda…" he breathed. He rested his right hand over her left, and she looked up at him with big, almost sad eyes. "Wanda, no. I… I trust you, okay?" She nodded, slowly at first and then quickly. Bucky gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand gently.

Clint cleared his throat, and he was looking at Bucky. "Why don't you get back to bed, both of you?" he asked, his eyes moving to the twins. They stood with a nod and grabbed their empty mugs. After gently setting them in the sink, Clint wrapped an arm around each of them, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair and ruffling Pietro's. The boy squawked, pushing away his hand, and both nodded at Bucky, similar small smiles on their faces, before disappearing into their rooms.  The blonde waited until he heard their doors close, before looking up at Bucky. They stared at one another for a minute, wordlessly, before Clint opened his mouth. "I understand if you're uncomfortable around her, someone in your head is… God, it's awful. She'd never do that to you not without your permission or a real reason."

Bucky glanced towards the hall again. "I trust her… She's just a kid."

Clint smiled at him, a little thing just clenching at his chest. "Do you want some coffee? Her hot chocolate was good, but I need something." Bucky nodded, watching the blonde carefully as he turned and started to make a pot. "She likes you, Bucky. Seems you do too."

Bucky shrugged. "She's a good kid." Clint turned to flash a warm smile, and Bucky's thoughts flickered back a few moments. "Wait… You know what it's like to have someone in your head?"

Clint's smile faded and he pressed his lips together. "This is a conversation that needs coffee," he murmured.

_Oh_ , Bucky thought, this was the missing part of his file, wasn't it?

The blonde remained silent as the coffee brewed, shoulders tense and drawn together as he gripped the counter's edge. He was facing away from Bucky, but the brunet could almost feel his frown. The machine finished brewing and Clint poured himself a mug, chugged it, and then poured another, along with one for Bucky. He turned, and, yeah, Bucky was right. A frown was present on his lips, a sight he wasn't accustomed to seeing from the cheerful blonde. He leaned forward heavily against the counter, eyes almost scanning Bucky.

"This wasn't on my file?" he asked, after a few minutes of staring. Bucky shook his head, watching Clint's head fall forward with a sigh. "You know about the Battle of New York, right?"

"Yeah, that's when you all became a team right? With the aliens or whatever."

Clint nodded, forcing himself to look back up. "That's the one. There was Thor's brother, Loki, behind it all. He had this scepter thing, the same thing Hydra used to enhance Wanda and Pietro. He touched your chest with it, you were his. I..." He paused to breathe and stared intently at the countertop. Bucky's heart stopped for a moment before it began to pound. "I was compromised. Did everything he told me to. And fuck." He set his mug down to grip at the counter. "It felt so good, to do exactly what he wanted.

"I killed a lot of people, too many. Nat would never tell me for sure how many, but... It was in the dozens at least; a lot of them were other agents. Some I had trained. And I remember it. Remember some of these... These kids, they all trusted me, and I killed them." Clint's hands were shaking, and he pulled at the hem of his sweatshirt. "I almost killed Natasha. She's too good, though, she knocked me around and got through his control. I didn't process everything until after the battle, I didn't have the time, and it really fucked me up.

"I spiraled, barely spoke at therapy, barely spoke to anyone, really; spent too long hiding out and only trying to sleep and waking up from nightmares. I thought I'd never get back to the field. My bow made me sick, I couldn't look at it. Took me a good four and a half months to pick it up again, nine or ten until I was back in the field." He shook his head. "It's been a few years, and the nightmares, they haven't stopped, but they're not as often. But even now, the cold gets to me, and I wake up seeing blue. Can't even look myself in the eyes sometimes, they look too blue."

Clint released a shaky breath, his hands still clenched, but he slumped against the counter. He didn't look at Bucky, head falling to rest against his fist. Bucky watched him, processing the words and studying the blonde. His own heart continued to thump wildly; Clint was like him.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

Clint shrugged. "Three days doesn't beat out seventy years."

Bucky frowned. "Don't think that way, Clint..."

"They treated me like a victim, and they think you're a _criminal_." He looked up. Bucky's chest clenched when he saw the haunted look in Clint's eyes. "Tell me, do you blame yourself for all the people you killed?"

Bucky's throat felt dry suddenly; he couldn't bring himself confirm or deny the blonde's question. "It's not the same."

"Like hell, it isn't!" The blonde slammed his fist into the counter, face red. Bucky stared at him calmly as he slowed his breathing, slumping again. "It's the same, it's the fucking same," he murmured, pulling his shaky hands up under his arms as he crossed them.

Bucky waited. Waited for Clint to stop shaking so bad, waited for him to just breathe, waited for him to look up at Bucky. It felt like an eternity, but the blonde finally glanced up at him. "Thank you," Bucky said, "for trusting me with that."

The blonde shrugged, face still taught. "It's pretty well known by now."

"But you told me, you didn't have to. Could've told me to fuck off, but you didn't. So, thank you."

Clint nodded, and he slowly relaxed. "What are brainwashed sniper bros for?" he joked weakly.

The brunet smiled, before standing. "Movie time?" Clint nodded again, smiling slightly back.

-:-

Things continued like that for weeks. Bucky would have nightmares. Clint would have nightmares. Sometimes the twins, too. Clint and Pietro would spar, Bucky would yell tips to the kid and Clint would yell back to stop it, the kid didn't need it. Wanda would just sit next to Bucky, sometimes leaning against him as she watched. Sometimes the twins wouldn't head up to their rooms after, but stay with them for a movie and end up falling asleep against the older men.

That's what they were doing now. Pietro had Clint in a chokehold, and Wanda was gently twirling a red flick of magic between her fingers. Her head rested against Bucky's right arm, and his eyes flickered between her and the two on the mat. Pietro was doing better against Clint; Bucky knew the older man was still holding back. If this were real, Pietro would've been down in less than a minute, but it was blatantly clear that they were enjoying it. They laughed at each other, throwing names and ridiculous smack talk at one another.

"You quick little bastard, get back here so I can kick your ass," Clint grinned as Pietro sped around him in messy circles. The teen's laugh rang out as he sprinted around, up until Clint stuck out his foot at the last second, and he landed heavily on the mat with an oof. Wanda lifted her head to laugh at her brother, who sent a half-hearted glare at her, before turning it to Clint.

"Oh, you're dead now, old man."

They kept going, and Bucky smiled. From the corner of his eye, he could see Wanda staring up at him. He turned, giving her a curious look. After a minute of studying his face, she looked into his eyes. "It seems you have started to develop some wrinkles since I met you." His eyebrows furrowed because there was no way he had; he hadn't met his soulmate.

But her face said differently, a quiet sort of excitement in her eyes.

Pietro zoomed behind them, leaving Clint alone on the mat. "What is happening?"

Gently, Wanda took Bucky's face in her hands. He let her, keeping his face relaxed and neutral. "Look, it looks like he is developing wrinkles."

The other twin leaned in close. Bucky stared back at him for a moment, before sparing a glance at Clint. The blonde stood stock still on the mat, watching them all with a blank look on his face.

"Oh, yes, I see what you mean," Pietro nodded, and Bucky closed his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Clint asked, voice sounding a bit off.

"Yes, these were not here when we met him two months ago." Her fingers brushed gently in the space between Bucky's brows. His eyes fluttered open and he turned to Clint again, who plastered on a too-big smile.

"That's great, Buck," he said. Something in Clint's voice told him that it was not great, and Bucky continued to watch his face.

"Couldn't tell you who it was, kid," Bucky said with a shrug and a glance at Wanda. "Might be dead," he added, trying to ignore the twinge of pain the statement inflicted on his chest. Clint's fake smile dissolved; he didn't say anything, just nodded solemnly and kept Bucky's gaze.

Pietro waited a moment before standing up straight, and, clearly no longer interested, said, "I want hot chocolate."

Bucky broke his stare to look at the twins. "Let's go upstairs?" he asked, standing up. He gave Wanda a hand up from the bench and turned his head back to Clint. The blonde was standing in the same spot, seemingly a little lost in thought, before he slowly met Bucky's eyes once again and nodded. The four loaded into the elevator, and it was silent the ride up. Wanda made hot chocolate like usual, turning to look at Bucky a few times, but not once saying anything. Pietro started talking Clint's ear off, and the man smiled and nodded, but his eyes kept slipping over to Bucky.

Wanda placed mugs in front of all of them, giving him a long, meaningful look, then a similar, albeit shorter one to Clint.

Did she think...? _Oh_ , Bucky thought.

His eyes followed hers to the blonde and he studied him. He was good looking, Bucky had noticed that long ago, what with his tall, muscular frame and bright blue eyes and dark blonde hair. But now, there was something different about his assessment of the blonde. He noticed the way his eyes shined looking at Wanda, the softness on his face listening to Pietro, the pink tinge to his cheeks when he glanced over at Bucky. Bucky noticed the way Clint's sleeves clung to his biceps and how his unstyled hair fell gently over his eyes. Presently, the blonde laughed at something Pietro said, his lips turning up in a beautiful smile. Bucky's breath caught at the sight, and  _ fuck _ .

Soulmate or not, Clint was gorgeous, wonderful, and Bucky wanted him closer; he couldn't help it.

Clint's eyes slid over to him, and he smiled at Bucky for a moment, before he went back to looking at Pietro. Bucky and Wanda met eyes and she grinned stupidly at him. 


	4. Chapter 4

**IV.**

"So you are attracted to him?" Wanda asked a few nights later after dinner, sitting at the head of her bed and painting her nails. Bucky was at the edge, peering around; she had invited him to sit and talk. Her room was simple, like his, but had a warmth about it. Most everything was red and grey and white, and she had a few pictures on her nightstand. Some with Pietro, some with Clint, even one with Bucky. 

He peeled his eyes away from Clint's smiling face in a frame to look at her. Her green eyes were curious, flicking between him and her nails. 

"Yeah," Bucky said. "I am."

"Do you… do you have feelings for him?"

Bucky hesitated. He knew the answer to her question, of course. As if he hadn't been mulling over it since he realized. Every moment he was awake, the thought of Clint snuck into his mind, even if it was at the back of it. The smiles he gave Bucky when he just woke up, and Bucky had handed him a mug of coffee. The easy silence between them when they put on movies. The way that he somehow just knew when Steve was overwhelming Bucky, and distracted Steve with a wink in Bucky's direction. Not to mention his strong arms that Bucky could only imagine being wrapped in, or the calloused hands he wanted to hold in his own.

"Yes," Bucky responded finally, focusing back on the girl in front of him. The bright grin on Wanda's face was endearing, her green eyes shining at him, before she looked back at her hand.

"You should tell him that."

Bucky almost snorted at the simplicity in her statement. "Not with my head how it is, I won't."

Her hands stopped, eyes flicking back up to him. "So, if your head was alright… You'd say something."

"I'd do a million things if my head wasn't so fucked, sweetheart," he laughed dryly.

Wanda hummed, looking back to her nails. "Can you paint my other hand?" 

He nodded, adding "It's easily been seventy-five years since I've done this." But Wanda shrugged, so he turned to face her and took the bottle in his hands. She rested her unpainted right hand on his left when he held it out, and he pulled the hand closer. His brows pulled together, focusing intently on the task. Only vaguely, he could recall a situation just like this. Becca popped into his mind, frustrated at her attempts to paint her right hand, before he would offer to help. She would huff and puff, but ultimately agree. Wanda, however, sat quietly, a gentle smile on her face.

As he dipped the brush back into the bottle, her gentle voice spoke again. "Do you think he's your soulmate?"

The bottle slipped from his fingers in shock, head whipping up to meet her eyes in an instant. He stared at her as she calmly suspended the bottle in her magic, bringing it to her own hand. Her gaze was gentle but expectant, waiting patiently for the brunet to respond. After a few minutes of stunned silence, he let his eyes fall to his hands.

"I… I don’t know, Wanda."

"Do you want him to be?"

"I think my soulmate is dead," Bucky murmured, eyes trained on the way his silver hand clenched. 

"That was not my question." 

The brunet looked up, meeting her soft green eyes. He said nothing as she slipped the bottle back into his hand, holding out her own for him to finish.

There was a knock on the door, and Wanda called out "Come in!". Bucky turned to look as Pietro walked in, looking curiously at the two. But, with a shrug, he flopped into the chair near the bed and reached for the remote. Bucky heard the television flick on and channels change as he worked carefully on the next nail. 

As he finished the last one, the door slid open, accompanied by a knock on the doorframe. He looked over to see Steve leaning against it with a smile. "I came to see if you wanted to go see Tony, but I see you're busy."

Wanda admired his work as he closed the bottle. "Good job." Her eyes flicked to Steve. "He's all yours, Captain Rogers."

As Bucky stood and stretched, Steve smiled at her. "It's Steve, Wanda, you know that."

Bucky squeezed her shoulder gently, and flicked Pietro's head as he passed. The teen squawked out a "Hey!" but the brunet ignored him, walking out the door with Steve. 

The blonde brought his hand up to Bucky's shoulder, as Clint's door opened. He saw them, offered a small smile and waved, before disappearing into Wanda's room, the door closing after him. Bucky watched after Clint, for a moment. Steve squeezed his shoulder, and he looked up at his best friend, who smiled almost knowingly, but said nothing. 

The two made their way to Stark's lab, where the brunet was hunched over his table with glasses on. He looked up, smiling brightly at Steve, but it faltered ever so slightly at the sight of Bucky. The short brunet sat up straight. "Whatcha need, Cap?"

"Any updates?" Steve said in a too stiff tone; Bucky had to keep himself from shaking his head.

Stark sighed and shook his head. "No, unfortunately. I do have some prototypes for your arm though," he added, looking at Bucky. The inventor flicked a paper-thin piece of tech, and a hologram of a few arms came up. "They're lighter, got more improved sensors, and can take a beating better than your own," he grinned. 

Bucky stared at the blue holograms, brows furrowed together at the sight. A new arm? He looked at his own, silver with that stupid red star, and flexed his fingers. A new arm... That would be nice, to have another thing separating him and Hydra. This thing he had now... It was an aching reminder.

So he nodded. "That would be amazing," he breathed. Stark grinned, and began to drone on about the differences between the models. He nodded along, not quite understanding, but more than happy to humor the genius.

Later that night, Bucky woke up with a start, breathing heavily. His sweat-soaked hair stuck to his face as he looked down at his metal arm. God, the awful fucking things he'd done with it... He peeled his eyes away, and swung his legs out to the floor. Rolling his shoulders and hearing a crack from his right one, Bucky stood and wandered over to his dresser and pulled on the first hoodie he saw. He buried his freezing nose into it, recognizing immediately that it smelled different. Like coffee and deodorant. Moving into the moonlight of the window, the dark fabric turned purple and Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. 

How had Clint's hoodie gotten into his things?

For a moment, he stood still, debating on changing hoodies, but decided against it. He would be cold again if he did and Clint probably wouldn't mind, right?

So, wearing the thick purple hoodie that reeked of Clint, Bucky ambled down the stairs, into the kitchen. The lights were off, as was the coffee machine. Odd, Bucky thought, but merely turned on the dimmed overhead light and the machine, letting it heat up. 

The odds Clint was shooting or on the training floor without having touched the coffee machine were slim, but Bucky still made his rounds. As he expected, the two areas were empty, lights dim as they always were when they weren't in use.

Slowly, Bucky made his way back to the main floor, which was still empty. With a quiet sigh, he set to making a pot of coffee and leaned heavily against the counter. For a moment, there was a door sliding open and feet shuffling from upstairs. He paused, straining his ears to hear the movement. It stopped after a moment, and there was nothing but the whirring of the coffee machine. Bucky turned towards it to pour himself a mug once it beeped, and then stalked towards the couch. He eyed the television, but decided rather to wait for Clint to turn it on. Instead, he sipped thoughtfully at his mug, grabbing the book off the coffee table.

A couple hours passed, the sun was starting to glint over the trees outside, and Bucky was still alone. He sighed, and set down the now finished book. Dejectedly, he buried his cold nose into the soft fabric of the hoodie, inhaling the warm scent of coffee and deodorant. Footsteps echoed from upstairs, but he didn't turn. 

"Buck?" Steve's voice sounded. "You alright?" The brunet looked up to his best friend, nodding as the blonde sat next to him. "How long have you been up?"

Bucky shrugged. "Since 3 maybe?" he added, pulling his nose out of the fabric. "You're up late today."

It was Steve's turn to shrug back. "Sam didn't want to work out this morning, figured I should sleep in for once." 

The brunet snorted at that, knocking the blonde's shoulder. "You've never known how to take a day off. Ever."

His best friend smiled, blue eyes bright. "I'm trying." Steve leaned into Bucky, and Bucky did the same right back. Quietly, comfortably, they sat together, and his mind wandered back in time, imagining sitting on their tiny shitty couch in Brooklyn some seventy years ago. Or those times during the war, when the Commandos would settle in for a night and Steve and Bucky would take turns staying awake, leaning against one another. Now, it felt mostly the same, Steve's warm presence comforting and steady. Bucky closed his eyes contentedly. 

After a while, he could feel Steve shift against him. "Hey, Buck?" he murmured. 

"Hm?"

"Why's there a pot of coffee made?"

Bucky sat up, contentedness melting away as he sighed, and looked up to his best friend. "Clint and I usually watch a movie when we have nightmares."

Steve nodded slowly. "Did he not show then?"

"Yeah, must not've had one," the brunet shrugged, trying not to look disappointed as he looked down. He really shouldn't be; it was great that Clint didn't have one. He could use the sleep. And yet, Bucky was selfish enough to wish he hadn't been alone. 

He glanced up, realizing Steve hadn't said anything for a few minutes. Odd, coming from Steve; the man never shut up, not in the forties, and definitely not now. Bucky met those bright blue eyes, and Steve was watching him intently, like he was studying him. 

"What?" he asked. 

Steve didn't respond, not at first. He looked at Bucky a bit longer, before looking at his hands. Bucky's own eyes flicked down to where his fingers were fidgeting. "Buck... Do you..." He took a breath, before looking the brunet in the eyes again. "Do you have feelings for Clint?"

Bucky blinked back at him. Steve looked earnest, albeit confused, with thick, dark blonde brows furrowed and head tilted ever so slightly. 

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I do."

There was a flash of emotion over Steve's face and a brief shaky exhale from his lips, before he leaned back into the couch and smiled genuinely. "That's great, Buck," he said, voice slightly too high pitched at his first word. "Clint's great."

Bucky just nodded, glancing away. Before he could say anything, Natasha was walking down the stairs, looking directly at him with fiery eyes. 

It didn’t matter if Bucky was the Winter Soldier, the Fist of Hydra, with over two dozen assassinations and countless other kills over fifty years. It didn't matter that he looked death in the eye, and went to hell and back. Through all the shit he had been through in nearly a hundred years, Natasha was utterly terrifying with that look. 

His eyes followed her as she reached the bottom of the steps and headed directly in his direction. She easily took the chair to Bucky's left, crossing her arms first, and then her legs. Natasha leaned almost leisurely into the chair, contrasting her expression as she stared at him long and hard. He merely stared back, pretending like she wasn't scaring him, and Steve looked between them, confused again. 

Finally, after entirely too long, she relented and spoke. 

"You have feelings for Clint."

Bucky's throat felt dry, and his voice was suddenly lost. Admitting this to Steve or Wanda was simple, but Natasha? That was completely different. So instead, he nodded.

Natasha, to his complete surprise, gave him a small, gentle smile. "Good. He deserves something good." Bucky didn't have much time to register that, oh, she thought he was good, because her smile then grew slightly menacing. "Treat him well or you're dead."

He nodded again, almost frantically this time. 

After that, she stood, stretched gracefully, and looked at them with an amused look on her face. "Breakfast, boys?"

"Sure, thanks Nat," came Steve's reply, as she strolled easily towards the kitchen. 

Bucky and Steve looked at one another, wide-eyed, before glancing at Nat, who gave them a devious smile. Steve let out a small laugh, and shook his head. 

-:-

Bucky didn't see Clint that day. Or the twins, for that matter. It wasn't the first time none of them came down after nightmares, not by a long shot. It was, however, the first time in a while he hasn't seen them at all during the day. None of the others seemed concerned by this, so the brunet did his best to go on with his day and not worry. 

That night, Clint didn't come down either. 

The following day was much of the same, as was the next day and the next. 

The fifth night, Bucky woke up with a rush, his mind foggy and cold. He was home, he didn't have to worry about that fucking tube or that god damned chair. Still, a shudder rippled through his body, and pulled his hair up from his face as he stood up. There was a hoodie lying over his armchair; he snatched it and pulled it over his head. He took in a deep breath through his nose, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. How did he end up with another one of Clint's hoodies?

Dismissing the thought, Bucky left his room and started down the hallway. The light was on down the stairs; Bucky's heart skipped a beat, and he picked up his pace. Sure enough, the dimmed kitchen light and coffee machine were on, but no Clint. Still, he could hear voices coming from down the stairs, where Tony's lab was. Clint told him he sometimes would go talk to Tony about his trick arrows after nightmares, once. Maybe… maybe he was there.

Bucky followed the voices, stopping himself before the wall met the glass.

"I don't know... I've tried hundreds of scenarios just tonight and none of them are working out right." He heard a sigh. 

"Tony, hey," Steve's voice responded, "don't do that to yourself, dear."

Bucky sucked in a breath; he was intruding, hearing this conversation, and he knew it. There was a reason Steve hadn't told him about them yet, whatever it was. In his defense, though, what the hell were those two doing awake?

"I just, I want him to be okay." There was a pause. "I know how much he means to you."

There was some shuffling, and Bucky risked a glance through the glass walls of the lab. He saw Steve pushing Tony's rolling stool away from the table full of tech and a few mugs, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, and the brunet looked up. "He means the world to me, but, Tony… So do you. You need to take care of yourself." He bent down, pressing his lips to Tony's for a moment, before resting their foreheads together. They smiled softly at one another. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Bucky walked away, his heart heavy in his chest. He wanted that. Fuck, he wanted that with Clint, soulmate or not, but instead, Clint was avoiding him, whether it was purposely or not.

When he reached the kitchen, he hunched over, gripping the counter, and let out a shaky breath. Stupid Clint. Stupid soulmates. Stupid feelings. 

He waited, letting the tension in his shoulders fade away gradually, before he stood, turning to make his own cup of coffee. Bucky set his mug under the espresso machine, pushing the button. He watched it brew as it whirred quietly, before plucking the mug from its spot once it stopped and falling heavily into the stool nearest to him. 

Sipping at the mug, Bucky tried his best to ignore his racing thoughts, when he heard footsteps. He looked up, and Steve was making his way up the stairs. He gave Bucky a confused look, tilting his head. "What's up, Buck?" he asked softly. 

"Just can't sleep."

The blonde nodded, taking the seat next to him. "Same here."

"Were you down in the lab?"

Bucky noticed how Steve froze ever so slightly, before nodding. "Tony's up, and I wanted to see what he was working on."

"Surprised you weren't beating the hell out of some poor punching bag," Bucky joked, bumping his best friend's shoulder and looking up at him. 

The blonde seemed to freeze again, staring at Bucky's face. Steve didn't respond to the tease; a large, warm hand caught Bucky's face. He froze up initially, before his brain caught up and, oh, it was just Steve. He gently tilted Bucky's head up to his, that familiar tight, confused look gracing his features. Blue eyes scanned Bucky's face for what seemed like forever, before Steve opened his mouth.

"You're aging," he murmured, a soft, puzzled tone to his voice. 

Bucky stared back, taking in the furrowed eyebrows and faint frown. He had a close up look to his best friend's face that he hadn't had before. After seventy years, Bucky still remembered every inch of Steve's face, how it looked then, so he knew the gentle creases around Steve's brows and smile were new. 

"So are you," Bucky responded simply.

Steve blinked in shock as he dropped his hand to his lap, leaning away from Bucky with a dumbfounded look to his face. "Buck... I..." he started, but the attempts died in his throat. 

"I know about you and Tony, Steve. Have for a while." Steve looked down at his lap, a guilty look flooding his features. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I..." He sighed gently. "I didn't want to freak you out. You know how people treated gay soulmates back in the day..." He cradled his forehead in his hand, elbow propped on the counter, hiding his face from Bucky. "I was scared."

Bucky almost laughed. Almost. 

"Steve..." he murmured, "you knew that I liked fellas back then, didn't you?"

"I just... I didn't know if anything changed." The blonde's shoulders slumped further down, and the mighty Steve Rogers, Captain America, fearless leader of the Howling Commandos and the Avengers looked small, fragile, and, for once in his life, defeated.

"Stevie, hey," Bucky reached out, resting his right hand in Steve's knee. "Look at me, Stevie." Slowly, gingerly, blue eyes met Bucky's own, looking almost ashamed. "You're my best friend, have been for almost a hundred years now. If seventy years of brainwashing and nearly killing you couldn't break that, I don't think the fact that your soulmate is a man would, either."

Steve relaxed, and a small smile gradually found his lips. He leaned forward, and hugged Bucky tightly. "I'm not the brightest, am I?" he asked into the brunet's ear. 

Bucky grinned, shaking his head against Steve's neck. "Not at all."

The blonde leaned back, still smiling, and ran his eyes over Bucky's face. "So, do you know who?"

Bucky sighed gently to himself. "I don't, no."

"Do you think it's Clint?"

He sipped his coffee, looking away from Steve. "Do I hope so? Yeah, of course. But I don't know. You'd think I'd have felt the sparks by now."

"Maybe you guys haven't had skin to skin contact yet?" Steve suggested around his own coffee mug. "What with a metal arm and everything."

Bucky shrugged. "Honestly, couldn't tell you. He's been avoiding me anyhow." He sipped at the lukewarm coffee again, but it suddenly didn't taste as good. Crossing his arms on the counter, he pushed away the mug. "But I don't think it's Clint… I think... I think, whoever it is... my soulmate died," he said, just above a whisper. His chest ached sharply at the idea.

He glanced sideways at Steve, who was staring at him intensely. Instead of keeping eye contact, though, Bucky rested his cheek on his arms, and closed his eyes with another sigh. Steve's hand came down onto his shoulder, squeezing it. "I wouldn't be too sure of that, Buck." Bucky nodded without lifting his head or opening his eyes; he wasn't really convinced, but he'd humor Steve for now. The blonde left his hand on Bucky's shoulder, rubbing it softly, reassuringly, as he sipped his coffee in silence.

The quiet was broken a few minutes later when footsteps began to echo from the stairwell. Steve's hand didn't stop, and Bucky didn't lift his head when Steve murmured "Hey, Tony."

"Barnes, Cap," Tony said, a sort of tightness to his voice.

"He knows, Tony."

"You two aren't very good at hiding it, you know," Bucky mumbled, peeking his eyes open at the brunet, just in time to see a faint blush. 

Tony walked over to Steve, standing on his other side. Steve's arm immediately found a place around Tony's middle, and the two flashed quick smiles at one another, before Tony looked back to Bucky. "You don't mind?"

Bucky lifted his head at that. "I was never really into dames, it'd be a bit hypocritical of me to mind." 

Tony looked at Bucky with an almost dumbfounded look on his face, all wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, if only a little. Then, after a moment, he grinned. "What I'd give to see my old man's face, finding out his two idols are gay."

The corner of Steve's lip tilted up, and he leaned his head back to look at Tony. The brunet looked back, his grin softening into a fond smile, brown eyes flicking between Steve's own and his lips. He leaned his face closer and closer to Steve's, before stopping suddenly, eyes flicking to Bucky. Rolling his eyes, Bucky pointedly turned his head away from them, ignoring the quick sound of a kiss, followed by Tony's voice again. 

"I'm gonna head to bed, alright?"

Bucky turned back around, as Steve responded quietly. "I'll be up soon, okay?" Tony nodded, eyes trained on the blonde. Steve leaned up to peck Tony's lips, smiling softly as they pulled away. Tony nodded at them both, and turned away, walking up the stairs. Steve watched after him, not turning back to Bucky until they heard a door slide open quietly, then shut. When he did, his eyes were warm and bright. 

"You gonna tell me about him?" Bucky asked, the corners of his lips pointing up. "Tell me how you met, how you got together."

Steve blinked in surprise for a moment, before grinning. "I didn't like him when I met him." Bucky laughed. "I'm serious. I thought he was this pompous, self-centered guy, fought only for himself. It was like he had all of Howard's smarts, and looked down on everyone else." Steve looked at his hands on the counter, an amused chuckle on his lips. "One of Fury's guys, Phil, he's an agent, and probably the biggest fan of us alive. There was a while, before the Battle of New York, where we thought he died. 

"Tony and I were talking where Phil was stabbed; he called him an idiot for taking on Loki alone. I asked if it was the first time he lost a soldier, and he told me they weren't soldiers. We had a lot of arguments that day, but it wasn't until then that our hands just brushed slightly, and I felt it. He did, too, just stared at me for a minute without saying anything." Steve's smile was small. "And then, he said 'Son of a bitch,' and sped away." Steve chuckled, and looked back to Bucky. "I thought he meant me, but he realized that Loki was all about having an audience, that he'd set up the portal at his tower. Of course, I didn't know that until after, but, details. 

"We fought, and I did what I could to treat Tony like I did anyone else but I kept looking for him during the battle. At one point..." Steve's smile faded, and he stared down at his hands again. "At one point the government sent in a nuke. Tony, he took it, straight into the portal and threw it at the ships. He almost didn't make it out before Nat had to close the portal, because his suit died, but he started falling and falling..." His voice got higher, an upset look over his features. 

"Bruce caught him, brought him back to the ground, but he wasn't responding. Thor ripped off the faceplate and he looked like he was..." Steve cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "I thought he was gone... I thought I lost my soulmate as soon as I met him. But then he woke up. Immediately asked if anyone kissed him, then started blabbering about shawarma and taking a day off. I couldn't help it, I kissed him then. I was surprised when he kissed me back, honestly, but after getting dinner with the others, we went back to his tower and talked about it, and we've been together since."

Steve turned to face Bucky, a faint smile on his lips. Bucky stared back for a moment, before responding. "So, what I'm hearing, is that you admit you were wrong?"

Steve groaned and rolled his eyes. "Not the big picture here, Buck."

Bucky chuckled softly, patting his back. "I'm messing with you, pal. That had to be awful though, realizing you were soulmates right before a huge battle."

Steve nodded. "But in our line of work? It's an unfortunate reality. I got lucky that he survived."

Bucky nodded. "Get some sleep, punk, your fella is waiting on you."

Steve smiled, and stood. "Let me know if you need anything Buck, I'm just upstairs." He patted Bucky's shoulder once, before making his way up the stairs.

Bucky looked around, hyper aware of the silence around him. The clock on the microwave read 4:21, and he sighed heavily. He knew that Clint wasn't coming down tonight; it wasn't often that he or the twins didn't, but those nights were somehow lonelier than when he was alone every night. Standing and turning off the coffee machine, he dumped his mug, left it in the sink, and headed back to his room. The brunet paused outside his door, staring at Clint's just across the hallway. Quietly, he slunk over, and merely stood in front of it. Even with his super-soldier hearing, the soundproofing in the door blocked him from hearing inside, so he just stood outside the door instead. 

Five days since he'd seen Clint. Would he ever come down at night again, he wondered.

"Sergeant Barnes." Bucky jumped at Jarvis' voice. It was far quieter than usual. "Would you like me to wake Agent Barton and inform him that you are outside?"

Bucky sighed, slumping his shoulders and shaking his head. "No, but thanks, Jarvis."

"Very well, please try to get some sleep, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky nodded as he turned away, and his door slid open with a quiet whoosh. He entered, walking over to his bed and falling heavily into the still-rumpled sheets. They were cold, but he wrapped them around himself anyhow, burrowing himself deeper into the hoodie in the process. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see all your kind comments and I'm so so thankful!! I want to go through and respond to all of them but work and college are really kicking my butt right now!! I will as soon as I'm able to. Thank you again you guys, I really appreciate the support.   
> I hope you enjoyed Stony being cute and in love and Steve being an idiot gay and the little bro time between him and Bucky. This fic focuses mostly on Bucky, Clint, Wanda, and Pietro, but getting to step back and write some about Steve is nice.   
> More is coming with Steve, that's not quite as nice.   
> Thank you for reading :)xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A scene of this chapter was illustrated by the wonderful original-cypher on tumblr. She's unfortunately ill right now so the art will be up within the next day or two!! I'll come back and link it here, and link it in the next chapter as well!

**V.**

It was early in the afternoon a few weeks later, and the range was empty. Bucky merely set himself up to shoot alone, something he found himself doing now that he didn't see Clint much. 

_God, Clint._

Bucky didn't know what he did to fuck that up. Just because Bucky seemed to be aging didn't mean anything, maybe his soulmate had died. Clint didn't need to avoid him because of it. And why else would Clint be avoiding him? He'd reacted weirdly to Wanda's claim of him aging from the start.

Plus, the blonde started avoiding him after nightmares. He hadn't seen the archer after a nightmare in a while, maybe two and a half weeks? Three? Either way, it couldn't be that he just stopped having them, so he must purposely be avoiding him. 

With a heavy sigh, Bucky carefully inspected the rifle, before glancing around at the ceiling. "Jarvis," he called out, "moving targets please."

"Certainly, Sergeant Barnes," the voice came back, and the range shifted with targets. 

Readjusting the weapon, Bucky took a deep breath. And then, he carefully began taking down targets. His shoulders lost some tension within the first few shots, and he could feel himself slowly relaxing with each target gone. He shot and shot until, after not long enough, there wasn't a single target left. 

Bucky lowered the gun, and just breathed. The feeling of eyes on him didn't go unnoticed, but he let himself ignore it for now. He wasn't threatened here, and the odds of it being Steve checking up on him were decently high. So, instead, he shot another round. And another and another and another until his hands started to feel stiff, if ever so slightly. That feeling of being watched persisted, so he carefully set the weapon down before turning. 

To his surprise, it wasn't Steve, but rather Clint and Wanda watching him closely. She had a soft smile on her lips, and Clint looked… well, Clint looked good, but maybe that was just Bucky's bias. 

"Hey," Bucky nodded, moving to hang up his rifle. 

"Hello," Wanda said easily; Clint remained silent. 

Bucky's eyes flicked to the blonde; did he look older? Or did Bucky just not remember right? "Haven't seen you two much lately."

Clint scratched his neck awkwardly. "Yeah..."

"Not shooting after nightmares anymore?" Bucky asked casually, too casually. 

He watched as the blonde flinched. "I... Ah, that's why we came to talk to you." Bucky's mind darted around a hundred different ways, trying to get what Clint was saying. Was he actually avoiding him? Was he tired of dealing with Bucky in the early hours and stuck to his room? Was he trying to politely communicate the fact that he no longer wanted to deal with him? 

"I've stopped having them," wasn't one of the thoughts that came to mind, but that's what came from Clint's mouth. 

The brunet's eyebrows pulled together. "You stopped having them?"

Clint nodded. "I did."

"How do you just... stop?" he asked, half skeptically, half in earnest. If Clint had found out how to stop them, why hadn't he told Bucky?

"I did it," Wanda said, voice calm and even. Bucky's eyes widened at her simple words, a cold rush running through his body. "I was able to go in and destroy a few memories, and neutralize others."

Bucky didn't realize his hands were shaking until Wanda placed hers on top of them. He looked at her hands. They were small and warm and pale and so different from his large, freezing silver one. He stared at the contrasting colors for a moment, then turned his eyes up to Clint. The blonde was watching back with a soft, calm look on his face. They stared at one another, Bucky's tense shoulders slowly loosening at the warmth of Clint's gaze. The iciness in his blood faded, and he looked back down at Wanda.

"I won't look at anything you don't lead me to, but you will have to reflect on anything you wanted destroyed," she said gently, ever so slightly squeezing his hand. "Some things, they may be too strong to destroy, but I can still neutralize them. They will remain there, but it will help to make your nightmares less intense and less often."

Clint placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder, looking at Bucky carefully when their eyes met. "I know you hate having someone in your head, Bucky, and so do I, but Wanda..." he breathed, giving her a quick, fond glance. "She can do it. She can get rid of the words."

Wanda was watching him, a gentle look on her face. She looked so young; she was so young, and she had earned his trust before. Bucky found himself nodding. There was little he wanted more than to be free of those stupid words. Steve had found the red book they were in and destroyed it, but who knew just how many people still knew them? Who knew how many people were still out there, searching for him? How many people out there were more than happy to shove him back into that damn chair, to take away all of his progress?

"Yeah," he found himself saying quietly, "okay."

Clint smiled reassuringly.

"When would you like to?" Wanda asked in her soft voice. 

"You got time now?" She nodded. "Alright, where should we do this?"

"Somewhere you're comfortable with. I did it in my room."

Bucky nodded, and led them up the elevator, down the hall, and into his room. He felt suddenly embarrassed at the severe lack of things in his room; there were no decorations, just all grey and white furniture and simple maroon bedding. He glanced at Clint, who was smiling ever so slightly at the photo that had joined the one of him and Steve on his nightstand. It was another picture from a movie night, and Wanda had been curled up into him on one end of the couch, Pietro curled up into Clint at the other end. They all had been asleep, and Bucky had a gentle arm wrapped around Wanda's small frame. 

Clint looked up suddenly, and beamed at him. "Nice picture," he said quietly. 

Bucky smiled back. Wanda caught his eye, and she smiled, too. "Would you like to get comfortable on the bed? Clint laid down for it." He nodded and did that, resting his head on his pillow. "Just relax," she murmured, running her warm hand over his right arm, then his left. As his eyes closed, hers began to glow red. 

Suddenly, there was another presence in his head, warm and red and calm. "Bucky," Wanda's voice echoed gently. "Take me to the start."

And so he did. 

Bucky showed her everything. Steve before the war, the first time in Hydra's grasp, the Commandos, falling, waking up to a new arm and his blood running with the knock off super soldier serum. Fighting the programming until he couldn't. Becoming the Soldier. 

"Think of the words," came her voice after everything. 

He could feel his mind flinching. She murmured soothingly to him, and he thought of the words. Those fucking words, so simple yet so intricate. One perfectly executed go through of those words and he wouldn't be him anymore. The thought of being that, of being the Soldier, it was terrifying. His brain felt like ice, thinking about it. He could feel the warm red slowly melting it away, but the sensation was so much, too much. 

-:-

Bucky didn't open his eyes when he woke up, not at first, rather focusing on how he felt.

And _God_ , he felt _exhausted_. His limbs were heavy, but his mind felt heavier. There was something cool on his forehead, a wet rag possibly, and Bucky could hear people near him. His eyes peeked open, and Wanda and Clint were standing to one side of his bed, his arm wrapped around her frame. "Hey," Bucky mumbled, going to sit up. His head protested slightly, but he persisted, pushing himself up and back to sit against his headboard. The thumping in his head was fading, the foggy weight slowly receding from his head and body.

"How are you feeling?" Wanda asked, gingerly setting a hand on his knee. 

"Rough, but nothing too bad."

She nodded, moving closer and out of Clint's grip. "Relax for now. We'll test it later on." Then, she smiled. "Are you hungry?" He nodded back. She offered her hand, and he took it, standing up. His head spun for a fraction of a second but he merely smiled. 

"Don't say anything yet, Buck. We didn't tell Steve because he'd have had an aneurysm," Clint spoke with a smile.

Bucky nodded, snickering quietly. Clint led the way to the kitchen, Wanda holding Bucky's right hand the way there. Only Pietro and Natasha sat at the breakfast bar, eating quietly and looking up at the three. Pietro's eyes immediately met Wanda's in a sort of silent conversation. Natasha's eyes scanned Bucky, before flicking to Clint. Bucky couldn't see Clint's response, only decipher some small movements. The redhead nodded, before waving them over to sit with them. 

Wanda squeezed Bucky's hand, leading them to sit in the two seats between Natasha and Pietro. Clint stood in front of the stove where a pot sat on the burner, quietly dishing out a couple bowls and setting them in front of Bucky and Wanda. Bucky smiled small, and the blonde returned the gesture, before snatching Pietro's bowl. The teen let out a quick "Hey!" but the older man merely winked at him, before turning to fill it with more soup. 

Finally, Clint poured his own bowl, leaning against the counter and eating quietly. Bucky's gaze stayed planted on the blonde, watching his eyes gently flick over Pietro, then Wanda, and then him. They met eyes, and Clint gave him a small smile, a warm pink tinging his cheeks, before turning his head just slightly to look at Natasha. Bucky broke his own gaze to peek at the redhead as well, who was staring straight back at Clint. His eyes flickered between the two, before they looked back at him wordlessly. 

"Are you done eating, James?" Natasha asked, standing. Bucky nodded in response, and she took his empty bowl, before setting them in the dishwasher. She then took the twins and Clint's bowls as well, before standing at her full height next to Clint's slouched form. "Do you feel up to testing your head?"

With wide eyes and a straighter posture, Bucky looked between Clint and Wanda, feeling slightly alarmed. In contrast, the two seemed completely relaxed, eyes resting easily on the brunet. 

"She– no– they know?" he asked, blue eyes darting to Pietro, who sat unusually quiet. 

"Clint thought it a good idea," Wanda said simply. His blue eyes darted to Clint's face, the blonde's expression calm and unwavering.

"Knew that if I came into his room, and I saw him passed out and her doing her thing, I would assume the worst," Natasha shrugged. "Plus they asked me to keep Steve distracted for today."

Bucky nodded slowly, and then looked over to Pietro. 

"I am nosy."

Clint snorted at the blunt response, before grinning at the teen. "This is why I love you, kid."

Pietro smiled warmly back. "I love you, too, old man."

Clint's grin widened even further. 

"So, what do you say, James?" Natasha asked again, her bright green eyes reading his face. 

Bucky found himself nodding, before standing up from the breakfast bar. The twins followed, and Bucky's eyes followed the lines of Clint's figure as he stood up straight, stretching his arms and exposing a strip of skin below the hem of his shirt. Bucky immediately met the blonde's eyes with a warm tint to his cheeks when Clint set his arms back down, but Clint merely smiled back at him and opened his mouth. 

"Jarvis, where is Steve?"

"Captain Rogers is in Mr. Stark's lab currently." 

Natasha snorted. 

"Alright, J, can you keep where we are on the DL?"

"Of course, Agent Barton."

With his eyes still locked on Bucky, Clint nodded, a faint smirk on his lips. "Let's go, then."

The five piled into the elevator, riding down to the training floor. Wanda and Pietro took a spot on the glass balcony overlooking the area, and when he looked around, Bucky realized that Clint disappeared. Only he and Natasha stood on the mat. 

"Jarvis," she spoke, looking at Bucky. "Lock up the door and weapons." With that, there were steel plates covering the exits and cabinets, leaving nothing open but the mat and the benches. 

It was then that the situation hit Bucky. They were about to attempt to trigger the Winter Soldier. 

A weight on his chest pressed in, and his hands suddenly shook. He could feel himself tensing as his breathing increased, but Natasha looked at him without a worry on her face. Instead, she rested a gentle hand in his upper right arm, squeezing gently. "You okay?"

"If I... If I do turn into him... I can't stop it," he breathed shakily. 

Natasha, with a roll of her eyes, seemed unfazed. "I know. But if you're anything like Clint, a good knockout will bring you back."

"Are you sure you can stop him?"

"Sure, I bet I could."

"If not, I've got her six," Bucky heard from above. He looked up, and there was Clint, sat easily in the rafters, a small gun in his hands. Despite the shadows casted on his face, his blue eyes shined bright at Bucky. "Tranq darts," he added, waving the small gun almost carelessly. "Almost enough to completely subdue the Hulk. Should easily knock out the Soldier for a bit if we have a problem." He then grinned. "Not gonna let you do anything to my best friend, Barnes."

Bucky nodded, eyes still trained on Clint's own. 

"Plus I'm sure Wanda could, like, suspend you in the air or something with her magic," Clint added, waving his hand vaguely, before breaking eye contact with Bucky. "You could do that, right?" The brunet followed his gaze to look at Wanda. She looked a little nervous, but visibly relaxed, if ever so slightly, at the question, and a smile found her lips.

"Do you want to find out?" she asked, almost jokingly, while raising her hand at Clint. The blonde chuckled, and met Bucky's eyes again. 

"Ready?" Natasha asked. 

Bucky's eyes stayed trained on Clint; the blonde nodded slowly, a gentle, reassuring smile on his face. Bucky nodded too, at Clint, and then again at Natasha. 

Slowly, precisely, she started to say the words in perfect Russian. Bucky closed his eyes, hands shaking in anticipation at his sides. He didn't remember what he felt like when he heard the words last, only the blank obedience that followed. But now, he just could feel his anxiousness creeping in. 

What if he hurt her? The twins? _Clint?_ God, if he hurt _Clint_...

Natasha finished saying the words, he realized, and slowly, gently, Bucky opened his eyes.

He felt the same, anxious, but completely fine and like himself otherwise. 

"Cолдат?" Natasha asked. 

Bucky breathed. "No... No, it's just me."

The two stared at one another for a long moment, before suddenly, there was another voice saying the words. Bucky startled, eyes shooting up to meet Clint's. In a perfect, smooth accent, the blonde recited the words while staring back with an intense gaze. The only reaction Bucky felt was his heart rate increasing, but something told him it was from Clint rather than the words. 

When Bucky just shook his head, Clint smiled faintly. "Figured I'd try catching you off guard with it."

"I'm still me."

Bucky turned his head at the presence of a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Natasha, and behind her, all the steel coverings on the walls slid up. She smiled at him. "I think we might've just done it, James."

His heart skipped a beat at her words, and he felt lighter somehow. He immediately whipped his head to face Clint, a wide grin slowly finding his lips. Clint was smiling back, before he skillfully maneuvered out of the rafters and to the floor. He landed in a crouch, before standing to his full height. His smile remained, as he hung up the gun with tranquilizer darts. 

"Now the only thing left to see is if you have nightmares," he added with bright, warm eyes. 

And Bucky didn't. Not that night. Not the next night. Or even the next three after that. Each morning, he woke up at seven, feeling more and more rested. 

On that sixth morning, Bucky smiled at his reflection in his mirror, before his eyes fluttered down to his chair. There sat one of Clint's hoodies, purple and soft and too big for the brunet, but he indulged and slipped it on. He smiled at the familiar scent of coffee and deodorant, retied his sweats, and made his way to the kitchen with bare feet. 

Steve, Sam, Natasha and Tony were all there. Sam was making breakfast while the redhead sat on the counter nearby with a relaxed look on her face. Steve and Tony were sitting at the breakfast bar, the brunet's face buried in Steve's side and a cup of coffee clutched in his hands. The blonde merely smiled, a hand rested on Tony's waist and drawing shapes into his side with his thumb. 

They all looked at him with the exception of Tony, saying a quick good morning. Tony more or less gave a muffled groan. Bucky gave a nod himself, and took the spot next to Steve. Sam paused what he was doing to slide him a mug of coffee with a smile. The brunet took it gratefully, quietly and happily drinking.

Steve turned his head to smile at him. "Sleep well?"

He glanced up to Natasha, who was watching him, as if curious what his next move was. He tilted his head at her, as if asking _"Should I?"_ She merely shrugged, but gave him an encouraging smile; he nodded slowly back.

"Slept great actually." Steve's smile remained just as big, but Bucky could see an almost confused look in his eyes. "Been sleeping really great the past few days."

"That’s great, Buck," Steve responded, "anything you've been doing different?"

"I stopped having nightmares."

With that, the air in the room fell still, and when he glanced up, Sam's eyes were on him, too. Steve's eyes were scrutinizing at best. 

"Just, stopped? Out of nowhere?" Sam asked, head tilted slightly at him. "I'm not, like, a doctor or anything, but I've worked with lots of vets. That's not how it usually works."

Bucky met Natasha's eyes again. She was watching with that calm intensity, before nodding at him again.

"I…" He paused, taking a deep breath. "Wanda, she fixed it." Even Tony looked up at that, looking exhausted and confused, but Bucky was more focused on the stony look on Steve's features. He didn't cower though, but rather sat up straighter, and stared right back at the blonde.

A few moments passed silently, before Tony opened his mouth. "How did she…?" he trailed off, waving his hand aimlessly.

"Her powers," he responded. "She went into my head. Got rid of the triggers, neutralized most of the memories."

"We tested him, we couldn't trigger the Soldier," Natasha added, looking between Steve and Bucky.

By now, Steve's face was starting to turn pink, and he finally opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry, you what? I must be hearing wrong, because it sounds like you told me that you had Wanda, who could be dangerous, go into your head?" His head whipped around to turn his harsh gaze on Natasha; she didn't flinch in the slightest, but merely raised an eyebrow at him. "And you knew about it? You let this happen?"

Bucky felt his eyes narrow, if just slightly. "Wanda is not dangerous. She's a kid, Steve. You were fine with her before."

Intense blue eyes met his once again. "That was before you told me she could get in your head! You're sure that she's not dangerous? What if she's in your head now?"

"I can tell you that she certainly is not," the brunet threw back harshly.

"Are you sure you even know your own head?!"

The remark felt like a punch right in his chest, but before Bucky could say much more, the elevator dinged open, revealing Clint, Wanda, and Pietro, smiling and stepping out. The smiles faded, though, when Steve's glare fell on them. Clint stood behind them, sending Natasha a questioning glance.

 _"You!"_ Steve stood abruptly, pointing at Wanda. "What did you do to him?! Are you in his head now?!" The girl flinched, staring at Steve with a fearful expression. Clint stared at the other blonde, eyebrows drawing together; he moved to put himself between Steve and the twins.

"Steve," Clint started, voice smooth and even. "I think you need to calm down."

"Were you in on this, too?!" he accused.

Clint kept quiet for a moment, but merely inhaled deeply before nodding. "Yes, it was my idea."

Steve made a low, angry noise and started forward towards them. Tony reached to grab Steve's arm, but the blonde was too fast. Suddenly, Steve's fist was raised, coming into contact with Clint's cheek with a solid noise. Wanda let out a surprised noise, recoiling behind him further as the archer's body twisted at the force of the punch. 

The air felt heavy, and Clint stood up completely straight for once at his full height, just two inches above Steve's. His eyes narrowed, staring down his nose slightly at the other blonde; his slightly crooked nose was bleeding, if only a little. Bucky sucked in a breath, unnerved by the calm, looming presence Clint suddenly had, unlike his usual, goofy warmth.

"Why?" Steve all but growled out. "Why would you let her experiment on him?"

"She _didn't,_ " Clint said shortly, glancing back at Wanda. "She did it to me first, to make sure it would work."

"Why that then?! Why would you let someone from HYDRA do that?!" 

Bucky barely was able to keep up as Pietro reached around Clint to slap Steve at a high speed, his arm a flash of blue. 

_"Pietro-!_ " Clint started. 

"You do not talk about my sister like that," the teen hissed as Steve stumbled back a few feet in shock. "I do not care who you are. And you do not touch him like that."

"She was a _victim_ , Steve," Bucky said lowly, eyes narrowed. "She's no worse than me."

Steve turned to Bucky, letting his eyes linger for a minute, before turning his gaze back to where Clint was still shielding Wanda. Pietro glared menacingly at Steve from over the archer's shoulder. Bucky couldn't even see the top of the girl's head past Clint's shoulder, only her side peeking out from behind the blonde.

"I saw how he was suffering, Steve. I've lived it for the past three years. No one needs to live like that," Clint spoke quietly, yet firmly. Bucky's eyes flicked up to him; he was glancing back at Wanda, squeezing her hand, before looking directly at Steve. "You said yourself that you want him to move on, right? To be able to separate himself from what they did to him. To say, once and for all, that he is Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier, and mean it, too." Clint let out a shaky breath, meeting Bucky's eyes. "I wanted that for him, too. I wanted him to be able to sleep through the night, to not have to worry about waking up and wanting to finish his final mission." Clint's words began to rush together, like he needed to get them all out as fast as he could. "I wanted him to feel like himself, Steve, not like there's someone about to pull his strings and take away all the progress he's made and-"

Clint was breathing quickly, an almost panicked look to his eyes. Natasha was on her feet in an instant, reaching out her hand to Clint's free one and standing in front of him. "Hey," she murmured softly. "Hey, Clint, just breathe, okay? In, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4." She repeated this another time or two, holding his face, before his panic subsided, and the tenseness in his body melted away. Clint met Natasha's eyes, and gave her a faint smile, nothing more than the corners of his lips pointing up. He let himself slouch, resting his forehead against hers for a moment, his hands held by both her and Wanda. 

Bucky glanced around the rest of the room, and even Steve's rigid form seemed to soften a little. 

"My point is, Steve," Clint continued once Natasha stepped away, clearing his throat, "that I wouldn't have done this if it hadn't helped me, if I didn't trust Wanda to do the right thing."

"I would not hurt Bucky," the girl murmured in agreement, still mostly hidden behind Clint. 

Bucky moved to Steve's side, resting a hand on his shoulder. The blonde looked back at him, and Bucky knew his resolve was breaking. "Really, Steve. I'm doing much better. I feel like _myself_ , finally."

That seemed to be the deciding factor, because Steve's entire body relaxed, and he turned fully towards Bucky, wasting no time before he curled himself around him in a tight hug. The brunet did his best to return it, a small, relieved smile on his face. 

When he pulled back, Steve gave Bucky a small smile, before he whipped his head around to Clint. "I'm still upset that you went behind my back."

Clint gave him an easy shrug. "I'm used to being a disappointment." At that, Bucky sent him a half-hearted glare; everyone else seemed to have a similar idea. The blonde threw up his hands in defense. He then rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, standing once more at his full height with squared shoulders. "But if you ever do anything like that to either of them again," Clint said, menacing voice far more unnerving with his smile, "you're gonna wish you stayed down in the ice." Steve paled slightly, and the archer patted his shoulder once before moving to face the twins. 

Bucky could see now that Wanda was still shaky, clutching her brother's hand as she glanced up at Steve from the floor. Pietro was no longer seething, but his facial features had hardly softened, staring intensely at him as well. Bucky elbowed the blonde hard, ignoring the "ow" and looking pointedly between him and the twins. 

Steve ducked his head, turning back to Clint, Wanda, and Pietro. "Wanda... I'm sorry. It's not fair of me to say any of that. You've given me no reason to think that."

"It is okay," she murmured quietly. 

"No, it's _not_ ," he responded, eyes soft and a frown on his face. Clint looked up from Wanda, his gentle eyes hardening as he watched the captain.

Sam clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "C'mon, man," he started, "give them some space." The blonde nodded, turning away and sulking off towards Tony's lab. Tony smiled apologetically as he followed them.

Bucky turned back to the others, making eye contact with Clint. The archer seemed to relax, nodding towards Wanda with his eyes trained on Bucky, before turning to Pietro. 

"Hey," Bucky murmured, reaching out to touch Wanda's shoulders. She didn't flinch away, but stiffened slightly. " _Hey_ ," he repeated, ducking his head to try to make eye contact. "Ignore what he said, okay? I mean it, I feel so much better, and it's all because of you, Wanda." Her green eyes finally met his, her shoulders relaxing under his grasp. Bucky smiled at her. "I am so incredibly happy, Wanda, and you made it possible. You are amazing, please don't forget that."

He barely caught a glimpse of a slight smile before she suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. He barely even batted an eye before curling around her to return the hug. "I love you, Bucky," she murmured.

"I love you too, kiddo."

After a few moments, the girl loosened her tight grip on him, and they smiled at one another once more. When Bucky looked back to the others, Natasha was wiping the blood from Clint's nose, and Pietro seemed less tense, especially when he saw the small smile on his sister's lips. 

Once Natasha was done, Clint's eyes met Bucky's, smiling gently at him. Bucky smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Steve's an asshole in this one, and it may seem ooc because of his easiness around Wanda in the chapter before. But he didn't know what Wanda's powers were, he and most of the team were never told. And his only experiences with people being in his friend's heads were anything but positive. I'll explore this a little more in an upcoming chapter, but I thought it a good idea to add this in because I know how it looks, and I'm afraid if getting a bunch of comments saying that he's out if character.  
> Also Steve canonically is overprotective and doesn't seem to think when it comes to Bucky, as seen in Civil War. Even if this isn't compliant with anything past TWS, I wanted to keep that aspect in the story.  
> Anyhow, thank you for reading! More to come :) xx


	6. Chapter 6

**VI.**

A week had passed, when Tony dropped down on the couch next to Bucky. He was reading, Wanda sat in the chair to his right doing the same. The sergeant lowered his book with a raised eyebrow; Tony was rarely in the common room, especially when the sun was up.

The shorter brunet raised his hands in defense at the scrutinizing gaze sent in his direction. "What, Robocop, am I not allowed to sit in my own living room?"

Bucky shrugged, "It's just weird to see you here."

"Alright, alright, you got me. I was just letting you know that a bunch of us are headed to the city this week," the brunet explained, gesturing a bit aimlessly. "I have some meetings that Pepper couldn't get me out of over the next couple of weeks. Thought you might want to go around and see your old stomping grounds with Steve. Especially now that you don't have to worry about your head being messed with again." As he finished, his eyes flickered to Wanda, who was watching over the top of her book.

"Who's all going?"

Tony shrugged. "Cap, obviously. Nat and Clint usually go, too, and where Nat and Steve are, Sam will follow."

Bucky crossed his arms, after resting his book on his leg. "I'm not leaving the twins here alone."

"Oh, God no. Do you think I'm that evil?"

"You did want to kill me at one point," Bucky provided nonchalantly.

"Details, details," Tony added, waving his hand dismissively. "No, the twins are completely welcome to join. I have apartments set up for you in the tower." At the last part, he looked at Wanda. Bucky turned his gaze to her, too.

She shrugged, a sheepish smile on her lips. "I would not mind. Can I talk with Pietro first?"

"Of course, kiddo, take your time. I'm flying out in the morning, Nat will probably fly out a few days later, so you can come down either day, or we could always send a third flight, too." He stood and began to walk away, before pausing and looking at them once more. "Oh, and don't worry about packing anything. The tower's got clothes for all of you already there."

With that, Tony turned, stalking off to the kitchen. Bucky watched his retreating figure for a minute, before turning to Wanda. "You guys don't have to, we could just stay here."

The girl shrugged with a small smile. "I want to see the city."

The brunet merely nodded, adding "We'll see how Pietro feels."

Pietro, to Bucky's surprise, took no convincing. If anything, he seemed more excited than his sister, grinning before Bucky even finished his explanation.

And so, Bucky sat facing the twins in the back of a quinjet the following morning. He had a bag between his feet, a few of his notebooks stashed away, watching the twins talk to one another excitedly. Tony was messing with a few levers in the front, Steve standing just behind him, listening to his nonsensical muttering.

The captain turned slightly, subtly watching Wanda and Pietro with a guilty look on his face. His shoulders fell slightly before his eyes met Bucky's. The brunet stared back at his best friend, a gentle smile finding his lips. Steve returned the gesture, before turning back to Tony.  Almost as quick as they took off, Bucky could feel the quinjet slowing and beginning to land. As soon as the jet was stopped, Tony swung around his chair with a grin. "Home sweet home." With that, the brunet stood and walked past the twins and Bucky, waving for them to follow. Steve trailed behind, and Bucky had to keep himself from snickering at his kicked puppy of a best friend.

The first room they walked into was clean and bright, but still had a similar warmth to the compound. Everything looked expensive, but Bucky expected no less from Tony. The twins were looking around in awe, turning to Bucky with matching wide grins.

The elevator dinged, and Bucky turned at the sound of clicking heels. Virginia - Pepper, Bucky told himself - was walking towards them with a small smile.

"Pep!" Tony beamed, receiving her in a hug.

"Hi, Tony," she greeted, a softness to her professional expression. "Glad to have you here. The kid's been looking for you."

Tony nodded, and Bucky barely had a moment to question  _ what kid? _ before Tony interrupted his thoughts.

"Pepper, I told you about the twins right?"

She nodded, blue eyes falling onto the two, a kind smile on her lips. "Wanda and Pietro, yes?"

After nods from the twins, Tony wrapped an arm around her waist easily. "Pep here is in charge of my company and, more importantly, one of my best friends."

"It's nice to meet you," Wanda greeted, voice soft. Pietro nodded, a small smile on his lips.

"It's nice to meet you both, as well. I'd love to stay to chat longer, but I have a meeting in ten minutes I need to be in." With a polite nod, she turned and strode off to the elevator, disappearing behind its doors.

"Pep's pretty busy, but she's the best," Tony beamed. "Now, let's show you guys your floors."

They followed, listening to Tony as he rambled about the building. They entered the elevator, and Bucky's eyes bugged slightly at the sheer amount of buttons for floors there were. The inventor hit one, hardly looking at the panel, and Bucky could hardly even feel it move around him. In a matter of moments, the doors slid open, revealing a nicely decorated living room. As they filtered in, Bucky let his eyes roam over the area, noticing the breakfast bar and the sleek kitchen behind it.

"This is Wanda and Pietro's floor," Tony started, eyes falling on the twins. "Pep decorated because apparently, I'm 'out of touch with kids' and 'a menace'," he added with air quotes. Bucky's eyes flickered to Steve, a questioning look in his eyes.

"He wanted to paint the living room pink. Among other things," Steve explained.

"It's  _ millennial _ pink! They're millennials. It makes sense!"

"They're not millennials, Tony, we talked about this. And they do not need the sheer amount of pillows you wanted to buy."

"I just want them to be comfortable," Tony huffed. The twins snickered, and Bucky couldn't help the amused smile that found his lips. The inventor waved them on to follow again. "Anyways, there's a bathroom here," he explained, gesturing to a door they passed, "and a laundry room here." He showed them their bedrooms, Pietro's sleek and simple with loaded bookshelves and a few video game consoles, all in cool greys and blues. Wanda's was cozy, with string lights, stacks of candles, and soft blankets strewn over every reasonable surface.

The soft excitement on Wanda's face was hard to ignore, and Pietro cracked a smile as well, as they both wandered around their rooms. Tony smiled, looking between the two. "We'll let you guys explore the floor some more. Jarvis is here like usual if you need help with anything." His dark eyes turned towards Bucky. "Time to show you your floor, Barnes."

Bucky found himself being pulled away, off towards the elevator again.

"Technically speaking, you share the floor with Steve, but he's usually with me in the penthouse, so he won't be there much," Tony explained as the doors opened. Unlike Pietro and Wanda's floor, it opened to a small lobby type area, with two doors on opposite walls. "That's his," Tony waved to the one on the right, before striding over to the left one. He opened the door, gesturing for Bucky to walk in.

The apartment was pretty simplistic, with comfortable looking furniture in navy and walls in grey, a few maroon blankets and pillows on the sofa. What caught his eye, though, wasn't the huge TV or the full bookshelves.

On the wall next to the door was a gallery wall, filled with pictures. Bucky stepped closer, eyes widening as he recognized the photos. There, one of him and the Howling Commandos. He remembered the day like it was yesterday: they were sitting in a bar somewhere in Western Europe after taking out a Hydra base and freeing more prisoners of war. Dum Dum had told a story and they were laughing. Frenchie had called his bluff, but it didn't matter. They all still listened to his stories with glee.

Another picture, one of him and Steve when they had moved into their apartment in Brooklyn. They had been exhausted, but Becca insisted they take a picture so she could show their little sisters.

One of him and Steve during the war. One of him and Peggy. One of him and his sisters. One of him and his Ma. One of the five of them together.

Not all of the pictures were old, though. There were a few of him and Steve now. Him and Wanda. Him and Pietro. Him and the twins and Clint. Just him and Clint.

With a grin and almost watery eyes, he turned to Tony and Steve. "Thank you," he murmured, eyes flickering between them, "thank you."

"You haven't seen the whole apartment yet," Tony pointed out, the corner of his mouth pointing up.

"Don't matter, this was more'n enough." He looked back at the wall again. "Thank you."

"Anything, Bucky," Tony replied.

-:-

Bucky stared into the mirror of his bathroom the following morning, toying with the ends of his hair. He hadn't had it cut since he was with HYDRA, nearly a year and a half ago. Back then, it fell an inch or so above his shoulders, and he had probably been due for another haircut soon at that point. Now, it fell halfway between his shoulders and elbows, on the off chance it wasn't put up in a bun or Wanda hadn't braided it. It looked healthy, silky, and soft now that he had access to shampoo and conditioner.

And yet, Bucky thought to himself, he couldn't help but think about the pictures on the wall of his living room. About his short hair from the 40s, how it had been short on the sides and a bit longer on top. How it messily fell into his eyes if he hadn't styled it with pomade, how good it looked on him. Would it look good with his beard, he wondered, running a hand over his facial hair.

"Sergeant Barnes," Jarvis called, causing Bucky to jump slightly. "I apologize for startling you. Miss Maximoff is looking for you. She is outside your apartment, shall I let her in?"

"Sure, Jarvis, thank you," Bucky replied, making his way to the living room.

By the time he got there, Wanda was looking at his pictures with a gentle smile on her face. "You looked so young," she stated without turning, looking at the picture of him and his sisters.

Bucky stood next to her, inspecting it. "I musta been your age in that one. My Ma wanted a picture of all of us when I turned 18, I think."

Wanda hummed. "And these are your sisters?"

"Mhmm, that's Rebecca, went by Becca. She was fourteen at the time," he pointed out. "And that's Isabella and Elizabeth, Bella and Beth. They were twins, right around six."

"I like your hair in this one," she murmured, pointing at a picture of him, right before he left for the war.

"Me too..." He let out a quick breathy laugh. "I actually was just thinking about cutting my hair."

Wanda looked at him for the first time, curiousness in her eyes. "Really?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. I love my long hair, but I might get it cut soon."

Wanda hummed, eyes scanning the other pictures. She laughed, her fingers brushing an old picture of Steve and Bucky before the war. The brunet smiled at the girl, eyes shining.

"Sergeant Barnes, Miss Maximoff, Captain Rogers is looking for you both. He said he'd like to talk. Shall I tell him where you are?"

Wanda tensed slightly, and Bucky immediately thought to tell the AI no; she still was uneasy from Steve's outburst the week before. But before he could reject it, Wanda said "Of course Jarvis. Let him in when he gets here."

"Very well, Miss."

Bucky watched the teen take a deep breath. "Wanda," he started, a few moments later, "you don't have to talk to him right now."

She smiled gently. "I know that, but I want to hear him out."

The brunet nodded, and within minutes, the door slid open. Steve stepped in sheepishly, a nervous smile on his lips. "Hi," he greeted dumbly.

"Let's sit?" Wanda offered. Both men nodded. Steve sat on one of the armchairs to the side of the coffee table, and the other two on the sofa; Bucky put himself between the two of them, arms crossed as he stared at the captain.

The blonde shrunk slightly under the gaze, something Bucky wasn't accustomed to seeing from his stubborn best friend. "Wanda," he said, blue eyes turning to the teen, "I can't apologize enough for last week. My actions, everything I said, should not have happened."

"It is fine," she responded. Bucky sent her a glance, but she didn't look fine.

"No, it's not, Wanda. You know that. You have done nothing wrong, and I should've believed you." He let out a shaky breath, glancing at Bucky, before his eyes landed on his hands, nervously tapping his thighs. "I'm not giving you an excuse, because it doesn't justify how I acted, but I was hoping to explain myself a bit?"  His eyes flicked up to Wanda long enough to see her nod.  "Before last week, none of us really knew what your powers entailed. The best guess I had was you had healing powers, from the time you closed up Clint's cut. Hearing that you were able to go into someone's head was shocking, to say the least," he started. "My past experiences with anything like that were awful. First with Clint, then with Buck. They both were taken over, forced to kill people, forced to either forget everyone, or use the weaknesses they knew to try and destroy the people they cared about. Clint almost killed Natasha, Bucky almost killed me. I was going to let him."

Bucky felt his shoulders drop slightly, watching the blonde run a hand through his hair.

"Luckily, we broke through to both of them, Bucky escaped HYDRA. So, I think hearing him say you went into his head set something off, like warning lights everywhere. In that moment, you weren't Wanda to me, you were all of HYDRA, trying to get him back and take him from me a third time. I panicked, I acted rashly, and I know- I know it's not okay, but I-"

Wanda was on her feet and in front of Steve in a moment. He closed his mouth as she kneeled in front of him, watching her with uncertain blue eyes. "I understand, Steve," she murmured, a hand coming to rest gingerly on his forearm. "I understand your fears. I was afraid at the time, but I know you reacted protectively."

Steve stared at her, looking stunned. Bucky watched them both.

"Wanda," the blonde breathed.

"Steve," she countered. "I forgive you, okay?"

Steve nodded, and Wanda lifted herself to hug him. After a moment, his arms wrapped around her tightly. "Thank you, Wanda," he murmured.

"Just don't do that again, punk," Bucky said, once they pulled away, and leveled his best friend with a glare. This time, the blonde smiled back.

-:-

Clint, Natasha, and Sam arrived a few days later, without much grandeur. Clint's glares in Steve's direction died down a bit, but their first interaction had been tense. Only with Wanda's insistence and Bucky's confirmation did Clint let himself relax, but not without warning to the captain.

Much like at the compound, Bucky spent his time with the twins and Clint, watching movies, cheering Pietro on when he sparred with Clint, shot targets with Clint, trash-talking one another more and more every round.  Instead of waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares, Bucky slept until a nice 6 am, late enough to not work out with Steve and Sam, but early enough to spend most mornings alone with a nice cup of coffee. It was a nice routine, to have some moments of peace to himself on the bright, open common floor.

This morning, though, a figure was slouched next to the fancy coffee machine. Bucky nodded at Tony when the brunet looked up, waving with a tired smile. "Hey, Buck."

"Morning, Tony. Have you slept yet?" he asked almost immediately.

The inventor laughed. "I have, Steve was just loud when he left this morning, woke me up."

Bucky hummed in understanding as he placed his mug under the spout and pressed the button to the coffee maker. "He's always been that way. I don't get how he can actually do incognito missions because he's just so loud."

Tony laughed and Bucky leaned against the island, a few feet from him.

"I have to admit," Tony murmured over his coffee after a few minutes of silence. Bucky's eyes flicked up to him as he set down the mug. "I had somewhat of an ulterior motive, inviting you here." Bucky stood slightly straighter, brows furrowing together. "Oh, no, nothing bad, Barnes. I promise," the inventor reassured, his free hand out in innocence. "I just… I made you a new arm."

Bucky perked up slightly at that, eyes wide. "I thought you said it would be another month."

"Well, I needed to come back here, because my lab here has more of my gadgets and materials. I knew it would only take me a day or so to work out completely."

The brunet looked down at his silver arm, curling the fingers, before quietly asking "Is it finished?"

"I just need you to pick out the color."

Blue eyes locked onto brown before a small smile found Bucky's lips. "Are you busy later?"

Tony grinned brightly.

-:-

A few hours later, Bucky sat in the lab, staring at the sleek new arm and flexing his hand in front of his face.

The brunet looked at Tony, who stood a careful distance away, Steve behind him with a gentle hand on his waist. The inventor was watching Bucky intensely, an almost nervous look to his eyes as they flickered between his face and the hand. Nervousness looked weird on Tony, Bucky thought. "So?" he asked, "what do you think?"

Bucky's gaze turned back to the arm. It was darker, a sort of gunmetal gray color with red peeping out from the seams between the plates. It was lighter than his Hydra issued arm, and a hell of a lot more intuitive, too, what with improved heat and pressure sensors and a way to remove it if necessary. Carefully, Bucky took his right hand and ran it over the surface. It wasn't cold to the touch like the last one, but rather took on the same surface temperature as the rest of his body, and Tony had put some sort of coating on it, keeping the plates from pinching as it moved. It felt almost natural, almost human, and that was really something.

A grin found his lips on its own accord, and his chest bubbled. He wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore; he didn't have any of Hydra's markings or words in his head anymore. He was indisputably Bucky Barnes.

With a warm, joyful laugh, Bucky beamed up at Tony. "I love it, Tony, thank you." He flexed the hand, his grin only growing at the sight. "Thank you, thank you," he repeated.

Tony visibly relaxed at his response and gave Bucky his own smile. "I'm glad you like it." He glanced up at Steve, who simply smiled back, leaning down for a quick, soft kiss. Tony immediately looked back to Bucky after, eyes flickering between his face and the arm. "Are there any adjustments you need? Is it too rigid in its movements? Too loose? I can-"

"Tony," Bucky interrupted, feeling himself soften. He waited until warm brown eyes met his own. "It's perfect, I promise," he said genuinely.

"You'll tell me if something's wrong, right?"

Bucky nodded. "Promise. Now, don't you two have a date tonight?"

Steve grinned, nodding, and leaned down to kiss Tony's temple from behind. "C'mon, Tony, let's get ready."

Bucky watched as they left, before smiling down at the new hand that lay in his lap. It was gorgeous, he thought to himself as he admired it.

A thud from the ceiling broke his train of thought and had him on his feet immediately, his fists clenched as he scanned it. There was some quiet movement following the sound, and Bucky tensed more. Time to see if this arm was ready to fight, he thought with a hint of amusement. The sound grew louder slowly until it was right next to Bucky, and he grew tense, assuming a fighting stance. What he didn't expect was one Clint Barton to fall out of a vent. The blonde landed neatly in a crouch, before standing to his full height with a crooked grin. Bucky relaxed at the sight, settling back in the lab table he was sat on. He laughed quietly, shaking his head. "You're really something, ain't ya?"

Clint just smiled, shrugging carelessly. His eyes traveled down from Bucky's face to the spot where his chest met metal plating, and Bucky couldn't help but glance at it himself. "So," the blonde started, cheeks tinted pink, "Tony finally gave you the new arm?" He stumbled closer, almost studying it, until he was hardly a few feet from Bucky. "He's been working on this for a while, you know," Clint murmured, blue eyes flicking up to meet Bucky's for a moment. His hand was outstretched towards Bucky, close enough for the sensors to pick up Clint's warmth, but still too far. "Do you mind if I...?" he asked hesitantly.

Bucky blinked and shook his head. "Go for it," he mumbled in response. Clint's hand grazed over the top of his hand first, gently touching the tops of Bucky's knuckles.

As he ever so lightly ran his fingers over Bucky's hand, he began speaking again. "Been working on it since he came to terms that Hydra killed his parents, not you, I think. Probably has been trying to get rid of the Hydra one for months, but he didn't wanna push you." He glanced up at the brunet through his eyelashes. "He was the same about my aides at first. He didn't want to push me to get rid of them, but he knew how bad they were."

Bucky couldn't help but stare at Clint as he rambled and ran his fingers over the metal arm. He was incredibly close, his face hardly a foot away. The brunet's cheeks flushed as the warm hand slowly made its way up the plating. As the hand neared his shoulder, Clint looked up again, suddenly and Bucky felt naked, out in the open for Clint to see, with his heart beating in his ears. Clint's warm hand hesitated, and he broke eye contact to look at it once more, his face brighter red. "It's, uh, real fancy though," he murmured, "bet it feels a lot better and-"

There was a spark against Bucky's collarbone, sudden and warm and radiating all the way to his fingertips, and Clint's voice died immediately. Bucky's heart rate jumped up as the slow realization filled his brain.

_ Clint was his soulmate. _

The blonde stared at the spot where his fingers rested on Bucky's skin, just past the metal plating on his shoulder, before his eyes gradually, carefully met Bucky's. They were wide and disbelieving, staring at the brunet with a nervous intensity. Slowly, Clint removed his hand and Bucky immediately missed the heat it provided. As gently as he could, Bucky breathed "Clint, I-"

The blonde snapped his arm back suddenly, as if he were burned, and stood upright. "I-I... I'm sorry, I need to leave," he rushed out, turning on his heel.

"Clint!" Bucky couldn't help but yell out as the blonde all but ran out of the lab. His chest ached dully as he slumped in on himself, resting his head in his hands.

Of course. _Of course,_ it was Clint, and _of course,_ he didn't want to be Bucky's soul mate. Not that he blamed him, really; who would be happy to have someone as messed up as him?

Bucky heard the door slide open a few minutes later, footsteps nearing him. "Buck?" Sam's warm voice called out. "Hey, man, you alright?" Bucky didn't move or respond, but he could hear the other man's footsteps nearing him. Gently, Sam placed a hand on his right shoulder, squeezing it. Bucky could hear him fumbling around before an object was placed in his hands. "Buck? C'mon, tell me what you feel in your hands."

Bucky recognized the trick and began to describe the tool in his hand. "It's long, kinda heavy..." he murmured, "metal. Cold. I think it's a wrench."

Sam hummed. "That's it, Buck."

The brunet sighed, eyes finally meeting Sam's, recognizing the concern on his face. "I don't think I was disassociating..."

"Could've fooled me," Sam responded in a deadpan voice. He was quiet for a minute or two after that, before he let out a quiet sigh. "Does this have to do with Clint?"

Slowly, Bucky met Sam's dark eyes and nodded. "He..." he murmured softly. "He's my soul mate."

A flicker of surprise registered in Sam's eyes, before he nodded. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Of course there's something wrong with that!" Bucky yelled before he could control his voice. He slumped again. "Sorry, Sam, I... I'm fucked up. He doesn't want someone like me."

"Did he tell you that himself?"

Bucky almost laughed. Almost. "He didn't need to, he ran away immediately. Besides, I know what I am, Sam," he said, voice lowering.

"You're a good man, Buck. That's what you are." Bucky opened his mouth, but the look in Sam's eyes was intense. "No, you don't get to disagree with that. And I know Clint knows that; this is probably just a lot for him. He'll come around." Bucky stared back at the sincere look in Sam's eyes, at the unmoving way his face was set. Without another word, he just nodded and stood. Sam smiled and handed him his t-shirt. Once he had it on, Sam merely rested his hand on his shoulder again. "It'll get better."


	7. Chapter 7

**VII.**

It didn't get better. 

Bucky never saw Clint, not for meals or in the range, or even anywhere near the coffee maker. Natasha pointed out that the tower was much larger than the compound; they each had kitchens on their own floors.

"You could just go to his floor and find him," she added, about a week after what Bucky was referring to vaguely as 'the incident'; he didn't want to think about it enough to give it a proper name. "It's just one below yours."

The brunet shook his head, sipping at his coffee and feigning normalcy. "I'm not gonna barge into his personal space. If and when he wants to talk, I'll be here."

She snorted from behind her mug. "When it comes to his own issues, he's nothing if not nonconfrontational about personal issues. He'll hide unless you reach out."

Bucky didn't respond, drawing his lips into a tight line. He gave her a nod, dumped the rest of his coffee into the sink, and made his way to the elevator. He could feel her eyes boring into him as he clicked the button to his floor, but he ignored it.

When Bucky got to his floor, Pietro was standing awkwardly outside his door. The teen glanced up, looking sheepishly at him. 

“What’s up kiddo?” Bucky smiled, pushing down the sick feeling from his conversation with Natasha.

“I usually train with Clint but he is not in the tower. I was wondering if you might want to?”

Bucky felt sicker as the statement registered in his head. _ Clint wasn’t here? Even in the building?  _

_ Did Bucky being his soulmate bother him so much that he needed to leave? _

The forlorn look on Pietro’s face was enough to stop Bucky’s spiraling thoughts, and the brunet ignored his feelings. 

“Sure, kid,” Bucky responded with a weak smile. “Let me change and then I’ll kick your ass.”

-:-

A couple of weeks passed and everyone headed back to the compound.

Everyone except Clint and Sam, that was.

Sam had work in the city, and Natasha said Clint was safe, and nothing more.

Being back at the compound without Clint was nothing short of odd. Bucky trained with Pietro nearly every day; it wasn’t quite as fun as when Clint did, with less smack talk and Wanda sitting quiet and alone as she watched. But Bucky did it for Pietro.

Movie nights weren’t the same, not even with each twin curling into his side.

But the worst part was late nights. Bucky couldn’t sleep most nights again, but not because of nightmares. Clint’s absence kept him up, mind racing too fast to even think about sleeping.  _ Where was he? Was he okay? Did he hate Bucky? _

When the thoughts hit him too hard, he’d end up in the kitchen drinking coffee. Some nights, Wanda would be there too, making hot chocolate, just like tonight. She looked exhausted this night in particular, leaning heavily into Bucky as a movie played softly on the TV. Bucky wrapped his right arm around her, rubbing her shoulder lazily as he stared blankly at the screen; he wasn’t watching, nor did he even know what movie it was. His thoughts hovered on Clint as they seemed to do all the time now. 

“I am sorry,” Wanda’s faint voice broke his thoughts.

He smiled tiredly. “What for, doll?”

“That this is happening.”

“It’s nothing you did, no reason to apologize.”

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “You do not deserve this, and I… I thought…”

“Really Wanda, don’t be sorry.”  His heart sank as her eyes started to water. “Hey, hey,  _ hey _ , what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, setting down his hot chocolate and turning to face her.

“I feel so selfish, I- you- I miss him.”

Tears fell over her cheeks, and Bucky pulled her against his chest, trying to blink away his own. “Hey,” he murmured, “it’ll be okay, doll.”

“I know, I just… He promised he would not leave us.”

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. Then, he held her impossibly tighter. “I’m here, okay? I’ll be here.”

Wanda’s crying continued, dying off until it was just slow breaths, and Bucky realized she had fallen asleep.

_ No matter what, _ he promised himself,  _ he wouldn’t let a single thing happen to these kids while Clint was gone. _

-:-

Weeks passed, nearing three months since ‘the incident’. Bucky was finally cleared for missions. And thank God, too, because those weeks at the compound had been monotonous torture. Bucky hadn't seen Clint at all, let alone spoken to him, and it was eating him alive. To have a mission to go on, that was a good distraction. And sometimes, sometimes Bucky got lucky, and Clint was part of the team on the mission. The two hardly spoke, sure, but he still got to see the blonde, and that was enough for now. 

In the kitchen, Wanda and Pietro sat eating breakfast Bucky made them when Steve came in with his stern Captain America face. Bucky glanced at the twins, before switching off the coffee maker and turning to Steve with an expectant look on his face. 

"Doombots in Manhattan. Won't be difficult, but there's a lot. Could use as many hands as we can get." 

Bucky froze, his eyes falling onto the twins, before meeting Steve's again. "You don't mean..."

Steve nodded, before looking at Wanda and Pietro; Bucky's eyes followed, and they were staring back at Steve. "It won't be hard, you two. We'll have to destroy the bots, but the guy who makes them, he's not the greatest at it. Pretty easy first mission, if you ask me. I know you’ve been training with Bucky."

Bucky shook his head, and the twins looked at him. "You two don't have-"

"It is about time we get off our asses," Wanda interrupted, standing. Pietro nodded, shoving the last piece of pancake into his mouth before following her lead.

Steve nodded, face set into his signature business frown. "Bucky, you know where their suits are, the jet leaves in 20."

With that, Steve left the three standing and looking at one another. After letting the silence continue for a moment, Bucky opened his mouth first. "Really, Wanda, you don't have to. Neither do you, Pietro." 

"But we will," Wanda stated, voice solid. God, she was stubborn

"Wanna show us where our suits are, old man?" Pietro smirked. "We're running low on time."

Bucky looked between them, nervously assessing the determined looks mirrored on their faces, before sighing and walking towards the elevator. He led them down and into the area with their suits, pointing them each in the direction of their changing areas. He stepped into his own, pulling his tactical gear on, before catching a glance at himself in the reflective surface of the wall. What was he doing, letting these kids step into this? Clint would know what to do. 

With a shake of his head, Bucky strapped on his weapons and stepped back out. The twins wore what seemed to almost be regular clothing, with Wanda in black pants, a red top, and a long red jacket, and Pietro in a long-sleeved blue athletic shirt and track pants. Bucky knew better though and opened his mouth at the confused looks they gave him. 

"There's nanotech armor in those. Keep you safe for the most part, but don't run around getting shot at." He turned his stare to Pietro. 

The blonde immediately threw up his hands. "What?"

"You're gonna get yourself shot at, I can already feel it." Wanda laughed quietly and smiled at Pietro's overexaggerated huff. Bucky gave her a tired smile, before nodding. He handed them each an earpiece, before putting his own in. "We need to go."

With that, the twins followed him down the steps to the hangar, where a quinjet was being loaded. The three stepped in, and Bucky's eyes took a quick survey of the people on the ship. Tony and Steve sat at the front, mumbling quietly to one another. Sam and Natasha were off to one side, sitting close and quiet. But no Clint. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, before sitting down with the twins.

Natasha caught his scanning gaze, holding it a few moments, before saying "Clint will be there."

Bucky didn't know if that made him feel better or worse; he just nodded.

Within minutes, the jet was taking off, flying smoothly through the air. The flight was short, Bucky knew, and the way Tony was already letting his suit envelope his body meant they were just about there. Bucky didn't miss the long, loving look between the short brunet and Steve as the helmet covered his head. Blue eyes glanced at the two once more, before looking between the twins. Wanda looked vaguely nervous but mostly determined, while Pietro looked excited. 

The jet landed in a relatively open part of Central Park, and when they left the jet, Bucky looked around. The action seemed to be a block over, if he were to guess by the civilians running towards them. He looked to Steve, who was assessing the situation, before sticking a hand to his ear. 

"Hawkeye, it's Cap. How're things looking?" 

"Just fine and dandy, another gorgeous day here in the Big Apple," came the warm voice in a far too chipper tone, loud and clear in Bucky's earpiece; his heart skipped a beat. "Why else would I have called you?"

Steve sighed, shaking his head. "Got it." With that, he turned to them. "Nat, Wanda, I want you two on the ground with me. Pietro, I want you to clear out any civilians, run them somewhere safe. Sam, Tony, get in the skies, keep them in a perimeter. Buck, get to the roofs, only get close if necessary. We just need to destroy the bots, shouldn't be too hard, but we gotta get through them all."

Everyone nodded, and Steve took off running towards the scene, Natasha hot on his tail. 

"I wanted to punch a robot," Pietro whined, watching the Captain's retreating figure.

"I'm sure you'll get the chance, kid," Tony laughed before his faceplate slid down and he took off. 

Bucky frowned after the metallic suit, before placing his hand on Wanda's shoulder, looking between the twins. "Please," he mumbled, "please be safe."

Wanda smiled warmly, and Pietro punched Bucky's shoulder lightly, adding "Not getting rid of us that easily, old man." With that, he picked up his sister and ran after Steve and Natasha.

"Need a lift?" Sam asked, grinning at Bucky. 

"Depends, you gonna drop me?"

"Depends,  _ should  _ I?" he shrugged, before grabbing the back of Bucky's uniform and taking off. Bucky nodded at Sam when he set him on a roof, before quickly setting himself up. Steve was right, there were a lot of these bots, far more than usual. 

He easily took out bots with a shot or two of his rifle, keeping an eye on Steve practically throwing himself at them. Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes at his idiot of a best friend. Natasha was doing much of the same, but at least she wasn't stupid enough to try and choke a robot like Steve was. Wanda was farther from them, moving her hands methodically. Red fog pulled Doombots into one another and encapsulated their debris to prevent it from flying off in all directions. 

A flash of blue distracted Bucky from Wanda, and he watched as a woman at a bus stop was whisked away by Pietro. He zoomed back to the scene in a moment, stopping to punch a robot. The teen knocked the head askew, before landing another punch that decapitated it completely. 

"Nice hit, kid!" Clint's voice sounded over the comms. "You've gotten better, you quick little shit."

"Bucky's been helping me," came Pietro's response. 

Clint merely hummed, and Bucky finally laid eyes on him. He was a couple of blocks over on a roof, shooting down bots left and right; as always, his aim was flawless. A bot found its way behind him, but before Bucky could even warn him over the comms, he whipped around to face it. Within seconds, it fell onto the roof, an arrow implanted in it, and Bucky couldn't help but find Clint even more attractive for it. 

The fight continued practically perfectly, or as much so as it could be. Steve and Natasha moved to a different area leaving Wanda by herself, but she seemed to be handling herself well. Still, Bucky kept an eye on her as he shot. 

The brunet turned his back for a moment, and when he looked back, a bot was slowly approaching Wanda from behind. Bucky brought his hand to his ear "Scarlet, watch your six." There was no response, and it didn't even look like she had heard him. "Wanda?" he added, dismissing her codename. Steve could yell at him later for using her real name when she wasn't in danger. 

Again, there was no response, as she kept flicking her hands to move the debris from the robots she had just destroyed. 

"She might've switched it off by accident," Tony supplied. "They've kinda got a learning curve to them. I'm a little caught up, just shoot the thing."

Bucky aimed his rifle to do just that, but he was out of ammo. The brunet swore at the empty weapon and his own lack of preparation, before slinging the strap over his shoulder and finding ways to jump down safely. It took longer than it should’ve, punching a few bots on his way down, before turning once more towards Wanda. She was focused on her current task, too much so to notice the bot behind her. 

"Wanda!" Bucky yelled, running towards her. She didn't hear him, didn't even notice as the robot behind her started aiming at her. 

"Romanoff, your six," Stark's voice barely registered in Bucky's ears. He needed to get to Wanda.

"I got her," another voice said over the comms.

Bucky ignored it, and ran and ran, and he wasn't going to make it. He  _ couldn't  _ make it, and-

And there was a flash of purple, and Wanda landed on her side. The robot fell backward, an arrow stuck in its head, before exploding. Bucky finally made it over, and Wanda? She was fine, lying shakily in the rubble beneath her.

What terrified Bucky was Clint, lying just next to her, breathing heavily. On his right side, stretching from his hip bone to his ribs was a bloody, smoldering gash. Bucky's eyes widened, and his knees felt wobbly. "No, no,  _ no _ ," he murmured, falling to his knees next to Clint. The blonde's eyes were open, and he looked up at Bucky, a small smile on his lips. 

"Hey, I said I got her," he said, before hitting a button on his bow, collapsing it, and hugging it to his chest. His eyes threatened to fall closed, looking at the brunet.

Bucky's eyes widened, and it suddenly felt like his heart was about to thump its way out of his chest. "No, hey, stay awake for me," he rushed out, and, without thinking, scooped up the blonde. After a quick glance at Wanda slowly sitting up, his eyes locked on Stark Tower, and with that, he took off running. He could hear Steve asking about his location over the comms, but that didn't matter. What mattered was Clint limply leaning into his chest, eyes barely open and a weak smile on his lips. The pained expression on his face and shallow, seething breaths would be burnt into Bucky's memory forever, the brunet thought as his chest ached. 

"You smell nice, Buck."

"Tell me some more, sweetheart," Bucky got out, the door of the tower now within view. 

"You've got pretty eyes, too. So, so pretty. Could look at 'em for hours."

The receptionist in the lobby barely had a chance to look at him before he was in the private elevator that led to the living floors; he called out to Jarvis. "J, please get medical on standby."

"Of course, Sergeant Barnes."

Clint groaned, and Bucky ignored the feeling of blood dripping down his hand. "I hate medical."

"They're gonna fix you right up, Clint," Bucky murmured, holding him closer.  _ God, wouldn't the elevator move any faster? _

"Hmm," Clint hummed. "Sergeant..." he smiled, his eyes closing. 

"Clint,  _ Clint! _ " Bucky called, just as the door started to open. There, a team of nurses and doctors stood by with a stretcher, and Bucky gently laid him down on it, watching as they sped away with his soulmate. 

Dazedly, the brunet ambled over to the sitting area situated by the windows, set his gun on an end table, and fell onto one of the loveseats, before sighing relief when he realized the fight looked finished. Weakly, Bucky reached up to his comm unit and pressed it to talk.

"I'm back at the tower, Clint's in medical." He took a breath to collect himself. "Is someone with Wanda?"

"I'm with her now," Pietro's voice replied after a moment.

"We're going to do some cleanup, and then we'll be back at the tower," Steve added. "Pietro, you guys are welcome to head back if you're too shaken up."

Bucky didn't pay much attention to the conversation after that, instead watching around the medical wing as he waited. 

What felt like hours passed, and Bucky couldn't help the incessant tapping of his foot as he waited for something, anything, to happen. The elevator dinged quietly, and he met Wanda's own bloodshot eyes as she stepped out and looked around, Pietro behind her. Immediately, she made her way to Bucky, falling on her knees in front of him. 

"I am so sorry," she nearly sobbed, head bowed. "If I were paying attention, he would not have-"

"Hey, hey,  _ hey _ ," Bucky cooed, pulling her up easily into his arms. "You did nothing wrong, doll." He rubbed his right hand over her back as she shook ever so slightly. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, and Bucky's heart fell at the warm tears soaking the collar of his tac shirt. "You did amazing, Wanda, okay? You both did." He glanced up and Pietro with a small smile. The teen smiled weakly back, eyes flicking down to his sister sadly. 

"But he- I-"

"You nothing." He pulled back far enough to look at her, gently tilting her chin up with his metal hand. She met his eyes, and the brunet felt his heart break a little more at the look in them. "You did great, Wanda, I saw you, alright?" He waited until she nodded at him before pulling her back in. "I was scared I wouldn't make it to you in time; if anything, it was my fault he..."

Bucky cut himself off, holding Wanda a little tighter as he buried his face in her hair. He could feel his eyes stinging but ignored it. A warm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it as Pietro spoke.

"He will be okay, the old man is too stubborn."

Bucky peeked at the teen with a weak, watery smile. He unwrapped his arms from Wanda, and the twins sat on either side of him. It was a tight squeeze, but the brunet didn't mind them leaning on him; it was rather comforting.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII.**

Bucky perked up as he heard footsteps a couple of hours later, and met eyes with a tall dark-haired woman in scrubs and a familiar, slightly shorter man in a lab coat. The twins followed his gaze, sitting up as well. "Sergeant Barnes?" she asked, a tired smile on her face. 

"Yes, ma'am," he responded quietly. 

"My name is Helen Cho, I'm a geneticist with the U-GIN Research Group, and a friend of Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner's," she explained, gesturing to the man next to her. 

He didn't know what her group or whatever was, but Bucky's brain clicked looking at Dr. Banner. "Bruce, right?" 

The man nodded with an easy smile. "That's me, big green rage monster and all."

Bucky looked at him for a moment; he definitely hadn't meant that. "Tony talks about you a lot; you're a genius."

The man laughed, shaking his head. "Thank you."

Dr. Cho elbowed him with a smile, before looking back at Bucky. "Mr. Barton is in stable condition; he's resting now." The brunet sighed quietly in relief. "He probably won't be up until tomorrow at the earliest, between his body adjusting and the medicine we gave him. You're welcome to come to his room and sit with him though, if you'd like."

Bucky stood with a nod, and the twins followed. The two doctors nodded, waving for them to follow. Bucky sucked in a breath as he entered the room, eyes landing in Clint. 

Not seeing Clint in months was God awful, it really was. But now, seeing him instead hooked up to machines and unconscious in a hospital bed? Now that, that was so much worse. How such a lanky, muscled mess of a man could look so small, Bucky didn't know, but it terrified him. 

Dr. Cho leaned over Clint, pulling back the blanket that covered him, revealing his bare torso. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together at the lack of bandages where the terrifyingly large gash in his side had been. In fact, it looked as if he hadn't been hurt at all. The brunet looked up in bewilderment. "How did you...?"

The doctor almost beamed. "I've created a machine called a regeneration cradle. It works at a nano-molecular level to bond with his own cells and heal him."

The brunet stared at her, still ultimately confused. 

Bruce added "She's practically creating living tissues, it's amazing really."

That, Bucky understood at least a little, so he nodded. 

"Not even you would be able to notice a difference, Sergeant," she said surely. He nodded again, unable to tell her that he'd never even touched Clint's skin with his own hand. "Do you have any further questions about the process?"

"No, thank you, ma'am."

Dr. Cho smiled at him once more, gently setting the blanket over Clint again. "Oh, one last thing: please hold on to these." She handed over Clint's hearing aids to Bucky, and he pocketed them for safe keeping. "Dr. Banner and I will leave you three alone then."

They exited, and Bucky allowed himself to walk closer to Clint. The blonde had bags under his eyes, and a tube delivering supplemental oxygen into his nose. 

Reaching out gently, Bucky skimmed the back of his knuckles over Clint's face. He reveled in the feeling, knowing that he may not be close enough to his soulmate to do this again. The brunet did his best to memorize the feeling of his scratchy stubble and soft skin, of his silky, messy hair. He let his fingertips ghost over his collar-bone, his shoulder, even his bicep, before pulling his hand away. Clint didn't want him, didn't want him touching him. Sadly, he pulled his right hand back to himself, crossing his arms. 

Bucky glanced back at the twins, giving them a weak smile once more. Pietro gently took ahold of his shoulder, and steered him towards the couch at the windows. Wanda stood by Clint as the two sat. Pietro pressed his side into Bucky's, and the brunet welcomed the grounding touch. Soon enough Wanda joined them, squeezing into the space next to the brunet, and rested her head on Bucky's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around each of them, relaxing into both of them as he studied Clint. 

Hours passed, and it was dark out. The clock on the wall read 2:34 am. Wanda was asleep on his shoulder, face pressed into his neck, and Pietro had been comfortingly raking his hand over Bucky's back for a while now. 

"Pietro," Bucky murmured, voice hoarse. The teen lifted his head to look at him. "Take Wanda to bed, Clint won't be up for a while."

The teen nodded, standing and stretching his long limbs. Carefully, he picked up his sister without her so much as stirring. "Please, get some sleep, old man," he said to Bucky, before carrying Wanda out of the room.

The brunet sighed, looking over at Clint. He stood to stretch himself, before ambling closer to sit in one of the chairs next to his bed. His eyes took in all of Clint's features, trying to memorize every inch of his face. 

The door slid open, and Steve stepped in with a bundle of clothes in hand. Bucky watched as he took the seat next to him, looking almost comically large in the plastic chair, but Bucky didn't even have it in him to smile. Steve gave him his own sad smile, knocking his elbow. "How are you, Buck?"

Bucky stared back tiredly for a moment, quiet as he turned again to Clint, and rested his hand next to Clint's. For a fleeting moment, he thought about holding it, stretching his fingers out, before balling his hand into a fist and shaking his head. "It's my fault."

" _Buck_ ," Steve started.

"No, I could've protected her. I should've." He shook his head again, eyes staring at Clint's hand. "When he disappeared, I promised myself that nothing would happen to those kids. I can heal fast, he..." He dropped his head, hand relaxing against the sheets. "He can't, Stevie. If I can't protect those kids, or even my own _soulmate_ , what the hell am I doing, trying to convince myself I can be a hero?"

Bucky rested his forehead against the cool metal edge of the bed, exhaling shakily. Steve was quiet, leaving the soft, consistent beeping of the heart monitor as the only sound in the room. The air laid heavy on his shoulders, mimicking the heavy, crumpling feeling he had inside. 

"You can't protect everyone, Buck."

"I know that, but..." He looked up at Steve, his eyes red and watery. "Those kids, him, you? You're fucking everything to me. You're my family." He ran his metal hand over his face, shaking his head and looking back to Clint. 

"I can't always protect Sam, or Nat, or Clint," Steve started, simply. "I can't always save you from your own stupidity." Bucky looked up with a challengingly raised eyebrow, seeing Steve give him a slight smirk at that. "And I sure as hell can't always protect Tony. God, nobody could ever save Tony from himself, that self-sacrificing idiot."

"Sounds familiar," Bucky joked quietly. 

Steve rolled his eyes. "I can't always protect all of you. But damn it, I'll try. I'm gonna keep trying and trying, and that's what makes me Captain America. It's what makes you Bucky Barnes. You're gonna keep trying and trying, and that?" He rested his hand on Bucky's own metal one." "That's what makes you a god damn hero, Buck."

Bucky nodded, taking in Steve's soft smile and warm eyes. "Now, go take a shower, you're ripe," he insulted lovingly, hitting his best friend in the chest with the clothes. "I can't believe you're still in your suit."

"Been a little preoccupied," the brunet murmured, standing. He let his eyes sweep over Clint once more, before slipping into the bathroom off of the room. 

He ran the shower until it was hot and carefully set Clint's hearing aids on the counter before stripping down and stepping in. The water was pleasant against his skin, and he merely stood for a few minutes as it beat down on his aching muscles. Then, Bucky cleaned himself, taking enough time to be sure he was clean, but still quick in case Clint woke. 

In no time, he stepped out, drying himself and slipping on the clothes Steve brought him. After the black sweat pants and plain blue t-shirt, he hesitated at the purple hoodie he knew wasn't his. Would Clint care, he wondered. Bucky shook his head, and slipped it on anyhow. Then, he slid his feet into the socks he was given, before gathering his suit into a neat pile. Lastly, he was careful to place the hearing aids in the deep pocket of the pants, before stepping out of the bathroom, and Steve looked up at him with a smile. 

"Better?" he asked gently. 

"Better," the brunet nodded. Steve nodded to the small basket near the door, and Bucky dropped his clothes in there. He kept his boots by his chair, and slumped next to Steve again, resting his head on the blonde's shoulder. "Why did you give me his hoodie?" he asked quietly. 

"Nat told me to, said it makes you relax better."

Bucky thought about it for a minute, before nodding slightly. He'd have to thank her later.

The two sat comfortably quiet, even as Steve dozed off with his head leaned against Bucky's. Bucky stayed awake as hours ticked by, but let himself enjoy the companionship and not think too much about what could happen when Clint woke up. He would face the rejection later, once he knew Clint would be okay. 

-:-

The next morning, Steve woke not long after 8 in the morning. Bucky watched him blink blearily down at him, before asking "Did you sleep?" When the brunet shook his head, he sighed heavily. "You kill me, Buck."

The two sat in amicable silence for a few hours, before the door slid open to reveal Natasha. She held two mugs, and was drowning in one of Clint's hoodies. "Sam's waiting for you, Steve," she spoke softly. The blonde nodded with a yawn, and stood and stretched. He gave Bucky a pat on his shoulder, before slipping out of the room. 

The redhead slinked over to Bucky, holding out a mug for him. He took it graciously, taking a sip of the mug, and watched as she perched herself on the edge of Clint's bed. Her gaze was soft as she scanned his sleeping features. The two sat quietly for a while, the ticking clock and quietly buzzing machines the only sounds in the room. After about twenty minutes, Natasha met Bucky's light eyes. 

"I'm sorry," the brunet murmured around the mug. 

Natasha shook her head. "You have no reason to be. No one's really at fault here, James."

Bucky shook his head, looking away. "He's my soulmate, I'm supposed to protect him," he huffed. 

"But he's Clint Barton. He'd find a way to get dinged up and injured in a baby-proof room. You're not any less, just because he got hurt." The brunet peeked at her, meeting her resolute eyes. "He's had a tough lot in life, but you," she said, softly, "you are good, James. I know you don't think you are, but you're the best person I could've hoped for as my best friend's soul mate."

Bucky's heart thumped, eyes falling the Clint's face. "It's not our choice though, what he wants from me."

Natasha merely hummed at that, sipping her tea before changing the subject. "Don't beat yourself up too much. I know you weren't there to see it, but he's gotten banged up far worse than this before, with me watching his back."

"It was scary, Nat," Bucky breathed quietly. "He was bleedin' and about to pass out."

She gave him a soft, understanding smile. "He's your soulmate, it's gonna be more terrifying. Especially at first." She looked over at Clint again. "You never really get used to it, but... It's gotten easier with Sam." He nodded again. "Besides, Clint's like a bad rash: incredibly hard to get rid of."

Before Bucky could even snort at the comparison, a warm, hoarse voice asks "Is that my hoodie?" The brunet nearly startled, looking over to find blue eyes just barely cracked open and looking back at him. His heart thumped a little louder in his ears, and before he could even think about responding, Clint's gaze shifted over to Natasha. "Is _that_ my hoodie? You people need to get your own clothes."

Bucky's brain caught up with him, as he set down his mug and fished the hearing aides from his pocket. He held them out to Clint, and the blonde reached out with a shaky hand, before pausing. "Could you..." he murmured, bringing his hand back to himself, "could you put them in for me?"

And really, how could Bucky deny him? Carefully, he reached over with one side, ignoring the feeling of blue eyes staring as Clint turned his ear towards him. He made sure it was on before doing the same on the other side, making sure to not let his fingers linger on soft skin. Once they were both on, Bucky sat back in his seat, as Natasha began detailing what the doctors had done.

After she finished explaining the cradle, Clint nodded, before adding "Please don't tell me you slept here last night, Nat."

"Me? No," she scoffed. "I love you but I've got a comfy bed. Besides, the twins and Bucky were here. Think the kids went to bed, and Steve and Bucky were here when I got here."

Clint's warm eyes moved to Bucky, and he cursed at himself for not having any coffee to hide himself. "Did you sleep here, Buck?" the blonde asked quietly.

"Well, I didn't _sleep_ here..." he trailed off sheepishly, looking at his hands.

"You haven't slept?"

"I was, uh... I was too worried, couldn't sleep."

Clint didn't respond, not at first. The bed squeaked quietly as Natasha stood up, and took Bucky's empty mug from his grip. "I'm gonna go get you some coffee, Clint."

The silence following the door sliding shut was deafening. Bucky barely kept himself from tapping incessantly against his thigh. The lack of movement from Clint was almost as unnerving as the feeling of his eyes on Bucky.

"I'm sorry," Clint murmured after a few minutes, causing Bucky to look at him. The blonde's eyes were set on his hands. 

"What for?" Bucky asked.

"For running away. I should've... I shouldn't have done that."

Bucky just breathed for a moment. He told himself he could deal with the rejection, but so soon? Still, he out on a brave face, only letting his words falter a little as he quietly said "I was worried about you."

The blonde's eyes flicked up to meet his. "I, uh, I was okay. I have an apartment in Bed-Stuy, Nat and Tony know where it is. I guess now I have an apartment building, though?" He scratched the back of his neck, looking down. "Crazy month it's been."

Bucky stared back, a little dumbfounded. "Hold on, you have an apartment _building_?"

Clint chuckled nervously. "Ah, yeah... The guys who owned it were some Slavic mafia or mob, or something, and they were threatening residents and stuff," he murmured softly. "Managed to get enough money together to buy it outright from them. Has some trouble with them, but I got a building and a dog out of it so," he trailer off, shrugging.

Bucky blinked at him, disbelieving. Then, a faint smile found his lips. "Only you, Clint Barton, only you." 

Clint gave him a small smile that made his heart skip a beat. 

"Wait," Bucky started, "where's the dog then?"

"Oh, there's a girl who lives a floor down from me, Kate. Maybe 22 or something? Anyhow, she's got Lucky right now." He looked around at his bedside tables, and fumbled to grab his phone. He unlocked it, scrolled for a few moments, before he smiled at the screen. The blonde turned it around, showing Bucky a cute golden retriever with a missing eye through a slightly cracked screen. Clint was beaming, warm and bright. "Cute, isn't he?"

Bucky nodded as the blonde set his phone back down. The brunet didn't quite meet Clint's eyes, but rather wrung his hands together nervously. His heart was beating fast with the warm look; he wanted Clint to look at him that way, but he knew it was wishful thinking. 

The blonde man sighed quietly, before starting again. "But I'm sorry for running away, Buck... I..." He groaned quietly, and ran a hand through his hair. "It's hard, you know? To come to terms with it all."

"That you're soulmates with an assassin? I get it, Clint," Bucky said, his tone sharper than even he was expecting. He stood up from that stupid plastic chair. "We can at least stay friends, right?"

" _Whoa_ , hey, look at me, alright?" 

Bucky did; he couldn't deny that warm voice. He studied Clint's features, taking in the confused look on his face. 

"Why would I care about who you were?" he asked. "That wasn't really even you, Buck."

"It was, though, wasn't it? I still did it. I still remember it all."

Clint sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I didn't run away because of who _you_ are." He paused for a moment, before continuing, quieter now, "I did it because if who _I_ am." 

Bucky froze, his head tilting. "What do you mean?"

"Buck, my past? You've read my file." He shook his head, looking at his hand on his lap. "I'm a dropout, an orphan, an ex-carnie from a circus that specialized in scamming and stealing, an ex-mercenary, a spy for an agency that was everything I hated, among other things. Not to mention me now," he laughed humorlessly to himself at the laundry list, "I'm a disaster. You don't need a burden like me."

The brunet stared back, heart thumping as he processed Clint's words. Clint's past? He hadn't even batted an eye at it when he read the file.

Clint fidgeted, opening his mouth to fill the silence again. "Not only that, but most of my life, no one wanted me, so this bond? Us? I didn't see it working out."

Bucky took a deep breath, before speaking "I read your file, and yeah, some of it wasn't pretty, but a lot of it wasn't your fault, Clint. Your parents died, you didn't know about the circus stealing, and when you did? You fought it. SHIELD? That wasn't something you could've known. As for you being a disaster, that's only some days, and it's usually endearing." Clint glanced at him for a split second, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. 

"And even the fact that you can look at my past, Natasha's past, and still find the good in us? You practically adopting Wanda and Pietro when they could've been a danger to you? You're not what you were forced to be in the past, Clint."

The blonde's blue eyes stayed trained on his hand. "That's kind, Buck, but I'm not... I don't deserve-"

" _No_ , none of that. Nat loves you, the kids love you, everyone loves you." He paused momentarily, closing his eyes. " _I_ love you. I love you so fucking much, Clint. I would take a hundred fucking bullets for you, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't let me, you asshole. You deserve _everything_. You deserve even more than that, okay?" 

Bucky let out a quiet breath, before opening his eyes. Clint was staring back in complete disbelief, his mouth hanging open slightly and eyes wide. The brunet merely stared back, trying to gauge the blonde's reaction. 

Slowly, shakily, Clint reached out after a moment, grabbing Bucky's left arm. He placed the metal hand against his cheek, holding it there with one hand. Absent-mindedly, Bucky brushed his thumb over the blonde's cheekbone. Without a second to react, Clint's free hand shot out, grabbed Bucky's collar, and pulled him into a kiss. 

Bucky felt himself melt against the blonde, his eyes fluttering closed. His free hand rested gently on Clint's waist, taking in warm, bare skin. He could feel Clint's hand move from where it rested over his metal one, sliding around his back before resting underneath the fabric of both the hoodie and t-shirt, pressing against his skin. The mere feeling sent a shiver up his spine, gripping Clint's waist a bit tighter, before pulling away after a moment. Clint's lips followed him up for a moment, before leaning back himself. 

Bucky's eyes opened, meeting that stunning blue in front of him. He didn't say anything, savoring the moment as he studied Clint's eyes this close up; they had green specks near his pupil, Bucky noted. The blonde's hand at his collar slid down to rest against his chest.

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to call your soulmate an asshole after you tell him you love him," Clint pointed out, breaking the silence after a minute. 

Bucky laughed, sitting himself on the bed next to Clint's hips. His right hand stayed in his spot on the blondes waist, running callused fingers over warm skin. His metal hand moved to rest next to Clint on the bed, supporting himself.

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to run away either, but here we are."

Bucky's eyes fell to Clint's lips as the corners pointed up. 

"To be fair, we're not exactly the most normal pair."

"Doesn't help that we're both stupid." He took in the sheepish way Clint's upturned lips turned into a smile. 

"I love you, too," the blonde finally replied. 

Bucky couldn't help the grin on his face, or the way his heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest. He gently knocked his forehead into Clint's, pressing them together, before tilting his chin up to catch Clint's lips again. The blonde's hand against his chest moved almost immediately, snaking around his body to rest on his upper back. Bucky let himself be pulled in closer, until their chests were nearly pressed together; only his left arm supporting him kept his weight from pressing into Clint.

"Fucking finally," Bucky heard behind him. He broke away from Clint, seeing the flash of annoyance in the blonde's eyes. He loosened his grip on the brunet, and Bucky sat up and turned his gaze to the door. 

Tony stood at the front, arms crossed with a smirk. Behind him was Steve, looking both exasperated and fond; it was a look he wore often. 

Bucky leaned up, watching as the two men came to the side of the bed to talk to Clint. "You gave us a real scare, Legolas," the inventor joked. His smile faltered a bit, as he added "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm impossible to get rid of. Once you got me, you're stuck with me forever," the blonde responded, eyes flicking to meet Bucky's. The brunet flushed, a fond smile finding his lips as he tangled his fingers with Clint. 

"And you guys think we're gross together."

Bucky rolled his eyes, listening to Clint and Tony snark at one another. Bucky grinned at the long-suffering look on Steve's face, receiving a tired smile in response.

After a few minutes, Tony's watch buzzed. He let out a sigh at whatever it was, glancing up at Steve. "Sorry, Clint, Steve and I have a meeting in fifteen."

"No problem, Tony. I'll see you guys later."

The two men left, leaving Bucky and Clint together. Bucky smiled at Clint, reveling in the shy, flushed one he received in turn. A few moments later, the door slid open again. Before Bucky could even turn to look, the twins were next to Clint, eyes wide. He watched as they held themselves back, but Wanda looked as if she was itching to touch him. 

"Hey, kiddos," Clint murmured, using his free hand to gently touch her arm. 

The simple touch was enough confirmation to her, it seemed, because she was wrapped around Clint in an instant, clutching at him like he'd slip away at any moment. 

"I'm sorry," she breathed, soft enough that Bucky almost didn't hear the tears in her voice. 

"Don't be, I'd do anything for you," he murmured back, glancing at Pietro as he waved the boy into their embrace. His free arm wrapped around Wanda, fingers brushing Pietro's shoulder as the twins squeezed in tight to one another.

Bucky watched the three of them, his chest bubbling at the sight. 

"I'm sorry I left you guys," Clint added, after a few minutes of silence. He squeezed Bucky's hand at that. 

"You said you wouldn't," Pietro whispered, a heart wrenching crack in his voice at the end. 

"I know, I'm sorry." The blonde shut his eyes tightly, but it didn't stop a few tears from escaping his eyes. "I knew Bucky would be there for you, I just... I needed some time."

"But you're back now," Bucky mumbled. 

The three looked up at him, and the twins released him so he could sit up. Clint cupped his cheek, pressing their foreheads together. 

"I'm back now," he repeated, his words a breath on Bucky's lips. 

A moment passed, before Clint moved his head. He reached his free hand out, and within moments, the pair was crowded in a hug with the twins. A smile stretched over Bucky's lips; the blonde's hand remained on his cheek as he pulled Pietro in tighter. The blonde pressed a kiss to Wanda's hair, before bringing his lips to Bucky's ear. 

"I love you," he whispered, voice low and sending a warmth through Bucky. 

"I love you, too," he whispered back. He ignored the quiet _yuck_ from Pietro, sighing contentedly.

Bucky had this little family, and he had his soulmate right there after nearly a hundred years, and there wasn't anything else he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!! That's it for my first work for a big bang, and probably the first story I've written in over a year.   
> I must admit I'm not entirely happy with how this story turned out. I wrote a lot of it months and months ago, and completely out of order. And yet? I'm still a bit proud of it.   
> It's dumb and it's not great, but exploring the relationship between these four characters was the goal all along.   
> Thank you all for the love and support on this story! And huge thank yous to Harishe and Alice (original-cypher) for their amazing art.  
> I admit that I'll likely be taking a break from these two for a little bit and explore other pairings and other fandoms.  
> But until then, thank you once again :) xx


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